Allies
by SkyLark89
Summary: Katniss' father never died, so her life has been different in some ways. She and Peeta are better acquainted by the time the 74th Hunger Games take place, which leads to many changes for them.
1. The Reaping

**Title: **"Allies"  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Katniss' father did not die in the mining accident, so her life has been different in some ways. She and Peeta are better acquainted by the time the 74th Hunger Games take place, which leads to many changes for them. Set during _The Hunger Games_.  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Katniss x Peeta  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Length: <strong>Nine parts, approx. 30,000 words  
><strong>AN: **Here's what I think could have happened if Katniss' father hadn't died in the mining accident. I'm assuming she would have a similar personality (quiet, strong willed, 'pure' as Peeta says) but might also be a bit nicer and less reserved, had she never come so close to starving and been forced to provide for her family at such a young age. And if Katniss was less aloof, maybe Peeta would have been braver.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>I climb out of bed and then change into some clothes before I make my way out of the room, all the while being careful not to wake my sister, Prim. It's Reaping Day and that means no school for us and no work for my father.<p>

After I have washed my face and brushed my teeth, I head into the living room and pass my father in the hall. We greet each other with silent smiles as he goes into the bathroom. We always get up earlier than Prim and my mother on any day he has off work. After the accident five years ago in the mines, which killed some of his fellow workers, my father decided that it was immensely important for me to be a good hunter, just in case. That event was something of a wake-up call for me also. It's scary to think that if he hadn't been terribly ill that day and forced to stay home from work, my father would have died too.

I've come to love our hunts, though. It's so refreshing to get out of the fenced in District Twelve and walk in the woods. Sometimes my father tries to say that I've learned enough by now and should stay home, where it's safe. We would both be severely punished if we were found hunting, but I've managed to convince him that I need to stay practiced and we do need all of the meat that both of us can get. My father works long hours in the mines, so whenever we have the chance to hunt, the game that I get is helpful.

Besides, if a Peacekeeper were to wander out into the woods, I know what to do. I'm sure I would hear them coming and have time to hide my bow and game bag. Then I would claim I'm only looking for Buttercup, my sister's cat. It's a lame story, but the lax Peacekeepers in our District never venture out into the woods, anyway. Why would they? After years of hunting, I feel confident that I'll never be caught.

Once my father's ready, we head out to the woods together, making sure to check if the fence is charged before we pass through a weak spot in it. We make our way to the log where the bows and arrows are stored and get them out, then split up. I head north and get a squirrel right away. After a few minutes, I notice a snare that was set by Gale Hawthorne, who hunts in the woods, too. My father and I have run into him a couple of times. Gale's father died in the accident in the mines and now he's been left with the responsibility of taking care of his mother and two younger brothers and sister. We've talked a couple of times out here (always in the presence of my father), but have never acknowledged each other at school. I barely know him, really. I walk by the snare and hope it will be successful in getting some food for Gale's family. I bet he'll be out here to check it this morning, before the reaping. I'm glad he's not here now, though. I don't really want to face him after what happened last week.

I shoot a rabbit, then retrieve it and toss it into my game bag. I keep thinking of the reaping and though I know the odds of my being chosen are slim, I can't help feeling nervous. I'm sure everyone feels nervous about it, I mean, _someone _does have to be chosen. Luckily, my family has been able to manage without me having to take tesserae. My father works in the mines and hunts, and my mother works as a healer, so we have enough income to get by on without the extra grain and oil. My name will only be entered into the pool five times this year. I get another squirrel.

Content with my load, and hungry for breakfast, I make my way back to the log and stow my bow in it. Then I sit down and only have to wait a few minutes for my father to show up. As usual, he's gotten more than I have: a wild turkey, two rabbits and a squirrel. The turkey especially will come in very handy when he's trading. My father and I part ways in front of our house; I go inside, and he heads straight to the Hob.

In the living room, my mother is just starting to do Prim's hair. Prim sits on the floor in front of the couch, petting Buttercup. Her pretty face lights up when I come in the door. "What did you get?" she asks.

"Two squirrels and a rabbit," I tell her with a smile. Prim and my mother are already dressed. My mother wears a dress from her apothecary days and Prim is in my first reaping outfit, which is a bit big on her. A tub of warm water is waiting in the bathroom and I scrub myself down, then put on a pretty blue dress that my mother has laid out for me. By the time I return to them, Prim's hair is finished and she sits beside my mother on the couch.

"This is nice," I tell my mother, smoothing the dress down over my waist.

"I'm glad you like it," she says, then motions for me to sit in front of her. My mother brushes my hair out and then braids it up on my head. She's just finishing up when my father returns from the Hob. He washes up and changes his clothes and then we all eat together. Soon enough, it's time to head to the town square.

Without giving it much thought, I find myself looking in the mirror while we wait for my father to grab his coat. Prim looks up at me and says quietly, "Need to look nice for your boyfriend?" The remark might have been teasing, but I know Prim doesn't mean it that way. She's smiling and I know she thinks she's clever for saying something like this.

I smile back at her and say honestly, "I don't have a boyfriend."

I know who she's talking about, of course. But what I don't know is exactly what's between us. I don't know what could ever happen, since I don't want children (who would be subjected to the reaping), and I'm sure he does. Of course, I realize that it's a bit crazy to think about something like children at this point. It's so far down the road and will probably never even come up. Even if we did start going out for real, I doubt we would end up together. We're only sixteen. But…I do like him. I can't help liking him.

"Well, you look pretty anyway," Prim says.

"Not nearly as pretty as you," I tell her, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Prim turns toward the door and I notice that the blouse she's wearing has come un-tucked from her skirt in the back. "Tuck you tail in, little duck," I say, smoothing it down. Prim quacks once and my mother and I both beam at her. Everyone loves Prim, but not as much as we do, of course. My father returns and we make our way into town for the reaping. When we arrive in the town square, Prim goes to join the twelve year-olds and I stand with some other sixteen year-olds from the Seam.

I see my supposed boyfriend and wave to him. He smiles and waves back, but doesn't make his way over to me. We wouldn't really be able to talk, anyway. The solemnity of the day usually falls over everyone quickly after arriving, and we listen in dead silence while the names are called. Effie Trinket, from the Capitol, is the one who draws the names. She talks all about the Hunger Games and how thrilled she is to be here, and then Mayor Undersee speaks about the Games. That's when Haymitch Abernathy, our only living victor in District Twelve, staggers to the stage and falls into his chair. As usual, he's drunk. Soon enough, the names are drawn.

"Ladies first!" Effie says, retrieving a slip. I keep hoping it's not my name…and it's not. It's Primrose Everdeen. But how could this happen? Her name was only on one slip. One in thousands!

Before I can react, I see her start to head up to the stage and her shirt has come un-tucked again. _No,_ I think. _No. Prim cannot participate…cannot _die_ in the Hunger Games._ Then I'm rushing up there and shouting, "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

Prim tries to tell me no, and clutches at me, but our father comes and picks her up, carrying her away. I can't even bear to look at his face. The worst has happened. I just have to stand here and try not to look afraid.

Before I know it, Effie is choosing the boy's name and I can't even think rationally enough to hope for anyone. "Peeta Mellark!" Effie calls. I turn toward her and gape, in complete disbelief.

Then I look over and see him, making his way toward the stage. Medium height, stocky build, with wavy blond hair. The moment he reaches the top of the stairs that lead to the stage, his blue eyes lock onto mine. Peeta is clearly trying to remain emotionless also, but he does look shocked. We continue to stare at each other as he walks to my side. But the cameras are filming us and we're supposed to be seen front on. I see Peeta tear his eyes from mine and manage to set his face into a composed expression for our close up. I follow suit, but all I can think is, _No, not Peeta…_

To think, I was worrying about the issue of my not wanting children coming between us. If only it were that simple, if only something far worse hadn't come between us just now.

* * *

><p>A couple of weeks ago, my best friend Madge and I were walking home from school together. Her house, in town, is far closer to school than mine in the Seam, so I always end up walking a ways just with Prim. Prim walked ahead of us, as usual, picking dandelions along the way and making a bouquet. When we were getting close to Madge's house, she told me.<p>

"So, someone likes you," Madge said.

I looked over at her, taking my eyes off of Prim. I knew what she was implying, but it was hard to believe. I never really talked to anyone but Madge at school. And we only became friends because we were both so quiet and didn't have other friends. That's how it started at least, but I'd come to like her a lot and was glad to have her friendship. "Who?" I asked, in disbelief.

"Well, you know the baker's son?" Madge smiled.

I smiled back. I assumed she was referring to the one who's our age, but asked, "Which one?"

"Peeta," she confirmed.

Peeta Mellark. That seemed strange, I was pretty sure I'd only ever spoken to him once, and that was years ago. He had plenty of friends, so why would he be interested in me? It didn't make sense and I felt suspicious. "How do you know?"

"He told me," Madge said.

"He _told_ you?" I was still incredulous.

"Basically," Madge said, nodding. "He came up to me and said, 'You're…good friends with Katniss, right?' and he seemed nervous. I told him 'Yes,' and then he said, 'Is she…I mean -' and I felt bad for him so I just blurted out that you don't have a boyfriend and he looked really happy and thanked me and walked away."

I was speechless. My stomach started to hurt and I felt incredibly nervous. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"Well, I think he's probably going to ask you to go out," Madge said knowingly.

I swallowed hard.

"He's cute, don't you think?" she asked.

"I - I guess."

"Just go for it, then," Madge said. "It was obvious by the way he was acting that he really likes you."

"But I don't even know him!"

"Well he knows you, apparently."

The next day at school, Peeta Mellark said hello to me in the hall, and I said hi back. It wasn't until he walked away that I realized I'd smiled at him, too. After that, he talked to me once while I was waiting for Madge after school. We didn't have much time before she showed up and he left. But it was nice, _he_ was nice. After that, we spoke a couple more times and even took a walk together once after school.

It's those experiences that I'm thinking about as we're taken to the Justice Building together, and then shown into separate rooms.

My family comes to see me, and Prim and my mother are crying as they hug me. Through her tears, Prim implores me to try my hardest to win, and I assure her I will. "You can - you can hunt," she sobs out.

I kiss Prim's cheek and squeeze both of her hands. "That's right," I say, trying to sound hopeful.

Then my father hugs me tightly and whispers in my ear, "Remember everything I've showed you. Get your hands on a bow if you can, and never give up." When we pull away, I wonder if he's going to cry, too.

I'm still in shock; I feel too numb to display any kind of emotion. I keep asking myself how this can be happening, and if it's real. But as more time passes, the more clear it becomes that this is not a nightmare I can wake up from. I am going to the Capitol.

My family leaves reluctantly, and my next guest, Madge, comes into the room.

She's not crying, instead there's an urgency about her. "Will you wear this as your token?" she asks, thrusting her hand out toward me. I look down and see a circular gold pin with a small mockingjay bird in it.

"Your pin?" I ask, surprised and confused. But she's already fastening it onto my mother's blue dress.

"Promise you'll wear it, okay?"

I nod, and Madge steps toward me and hugs me tightly. I tentatively put my hands on her back, then she pulls away to look at me one last time. She presses her lips together tightly, then says, "You're a great friend."

"So are you," I say.

Madge gives me a single nod, then turns and leaves. I don't blame her for hardly saying anything. What is there to say? What would I say to her, if she'd been reaped? We both know I'm going to die, but if she'd said _goodbye_, it would have felt like she was hexing me or something. My family didn't say it, either.

I'm lead out of the visiting room and am only vaguely aware of being put on a train with Peeta and Haymitch and Effie. I can't even bear to look at Peeta again. I know if I look at him, I'll see that he's thinking the same thing I am: _How could this happen to us?_ and I'm afraid I'll start crying now. When I do steal a glance at him after we've changed clothes and sat down to eat, it's obvious that he's already been crying.

Haymitch, our only hope of survival, is still drunk. Peeta and I try to ask him if he has any advice for us. "Yeah, stay alive," he says, and laughs. Looking over at Peeta, I see that he's just as angry as I feel. He slaps the drink out of Haymitch's hand, and then Haymitch punches him in the jaw. I stab my knife into the table, barely missing Haymitch's fingers. Apparently, this intrigues Haymitch, because he says, "Well, did I really get a couple of fighters this year?" and starts asking about what, if any, skills we have.

"Katniss is good with a bow and arrow," Peeta says quickly.

For just a moment, I feel betrayed. Peeta promised not to tell anyone about how I hunt, but then I realize that I'm not going to get in trouble for it now and he's trying to help me.

"I'm okay," I say casually.

"She's been hunting for years," Peeta says, then looks at me. "You must be great by now."

"Well, what about you? I've seen you lift hundred-pound bags of flour in the market," I say to Peeta, then turn to Haymitch. "He's very strong. He came in second, only after his brother, in wrestling at school."

"You can't wrestle someone to death," Peeta says, but he gives me a small smile. It's now that I ask myself why I would remember this. It happened months ago, if memory serves. I find myself thinking of the first time we spoke, years ago, and wonder if I have kept track of him because of that day when we were children. Because of the kindness he showed me.

Haymitch tells us that, as long as we don't interfere with his drinking and we promise to do as he says, he will stay sober enough to help us as much as he can. He also tells us to trust our stylists implicitly; no matter what they do, we are to go along with it. That means being adorned in matching black outfits that have artificial fire coming from them, because District Twelve specializes in coal, which you set on fire. Cinna, my stylist, also gets Peeta and I to hold hands. For our first presentation in the Capitol, we ride in a chariot, waving at everyone, and I see us projected up on the screens around the crowd. We look spectacular, glowing in the night air. It's incredibly nerve-wracking, knowing that every single person in Panem is watching us, but Peeta's hand around mine is surprisingly comforting. At least I'm not alone. Not yet, anyway.

I don't know what Haymitch has planned, presenting us this way. It just isn't done. We may have to kill each other and we both know it, so it's hard to pretend to be friends, when we can't be anything to each other anymore.

After this, we go back to the Training Center for dinner with Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Peeta's stylist Portia. The food is delicious and there is plenty of it, but all I can think is that we're being fattened up for the kill. At the end of dinner, Haymitch tells us that tomorrow morning is the first training session and we're to meet him for breakfast so he can tell us what to do.

Peeta and I return to the hall outside our rooms after dinner. I'm just about to open my door when he speaks from behind me. "Can we talk?"

I turn around slowly, trying to remain as evasive as I've started being with Peeta. I look up at him and know my face must be a picture of confusion and sadness. I try to set it into a calm expression as I say, "Why?" My voice sounds colder than I had meant it to, but maybe that is for the best. We can't be friends anymore and we certainly can't be whatever else we were back in District Twelve.

Peeta looks surprised and I know I've done the wrong thing. "Because…" he says, clearly unprepared to even have to answer such a question. "Because you're the only person here who I know and I want to talk to someone."

I can understand that. In fact, I realize I don't want to go back to my room and sit there alone, either. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to sleep. "Okay," I say, still hesitant. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, not here," Peeta says. "Have you been up to the roof? Cinna showed me and it's great, you can see practically the whole city."

"Oh, okay," I say. I follow Peeta up a flight of stairs, then we step out into the windy night air. The bright lights of the Capitol buildings around us sparkle like fireflies. Peeta and I both head toward the edge of the roof and stand side by side, resting our hands on the railing as we look out over the Capitol. "Wow," I say. The view is incredible.

"So, who came to say goodbye to you?" Peeta asks.

"Just my parents and Prim, and then Madge," I say.

Peeta looks over at me and I look back and see that he's smiling. "Right," he says, "Madge."

I know he's thinking of how instrumental Madge was in our starting to spend time together. "Don't," I say, suddenly realizing we're standing very close to each other and our faces are only about a foot apart. I step back and face Peeta front-on, leaning my hip against the cement wall that comes up to my rib cage.

"Don't what?" he says, his eyes searching my face.

"We can't -" I start, then get tripped up on my words. "We can't be friends, anymore," I say.

"We were never friends," Peeta says flatly. I know it's true, but at this point I don't want to think we were anything else, either. "I just can't believe this happened to us." He sounds so defeated.

"Well, it had to be someone," I remind him, annoyed. He's only voicing the same thing I've been thinking over and over, but I don't like hearing it out loud.

"I know, but…both of us?"

"There is no _us_," I say, stepping farther away from him.

Peeta sighs. "All right, Katniss," he says tiredly. He turns away from me again to look out over the Capitol.

I remember that I did want someone to talk to, and I try to think of something safe to discuss, something that doesn't make me want to cry and throw a fit. "Who came to say goodbye to you?" I ask.

"My parents and my brothers, and a few friends," he says.

I think of asking him about the friends, but don't really need to hear about how many he has. I hope none of them were girls. Ugh. Why would I hope that? It doesn't matter anymore.

We're both silent for a while. I realize that maybe he is not interested in talking about things like this. I wonder what he was expecting when he asked me up here and tried to talk about _us_. He looks sad and resigned, as he stares out at the city. I find myself stepping toward him. A part of me thinks I should just be nicer to him. _Why not?_ With twenty-four tributes, the odds are that neither of us will even get the chance to kill each other. I reach out and rest my hand on the back of Peeta's. He quickly turns it over and then our hands are cupped and he's squeezing mine tightly. He turns and his eyes meet mine again. He still looks sad, how could he not be? I know I'm sad. In spite of myself, I lift my free hand up and gently graze my fingers over the spot where Peeta's jaw is bruised from when Haymitch hit him. I've never been hit in my life, and I'm sure it hurt badly.

"All the things I hoped for," Peeta says, "the things I pictured, none of it can happen now."

I really hope he's not talking about things he pictured happening between us in particular, because the thought of that is devastating, somehow. I take a deep breath and lower my eyes from his. This was a bad idea. I thought talking to someone might make me feel better, but it's only making me feel horrible and angry. I feel so angry that Peeta and I are going to die, before we've even lived. But that's the idea, I suppose. That's the whole point of the Games.

I raise my gaze up to his again and can't bear the way he's looking at me. "I'm tired," I say, pulling my hand away from his. "I want to go to bed now."

I quickly turn and head for the door, hearing his footfalls behind me. We return to the hall outside our rooms, say goodnight, and then I go into my room. I take a shower, change into some sleeping clothes and lie down in the bed. I find myself brushing my hand across the big, empty space beside me and thinking of Prim. My little sister, who I love more than anyone else in the world. I miss her and can't believe I'll never see her again. At least she's safe at home. I remind myself that if I wasn't here now, Prim would be, and I can't stand the thought of that.

I think of my parents. I wish I could hug my mother one more time, and I wish my father was here to sing me to sleep. I remember my mother brushing and braiding my hair for the reaping. It feels like that was a thousand years ago. I think of my father's last words to me: _"Never give up."_ Of course I'll never give up, but neither will the other twenty-three tributes.

Next, I think of Madge. She was teaching me a new song on her piano at home. I'm not very good; not nearly as good as Madge, but it's fun. She's always nice and tries to be encouraging, even though I play nothing but mistakes. I can't help picturing her eating alone at lunch time and walking home from school alone. Or, will she still want to walk with Prim? I don't know. Madge is an only child, and I know Prim likes her, so maybe they can be friends. In fact, I hope they'll become as close as sisters.

And…Peeta. In some ways, it is the worst to think of him, because I can't hope for the best for Peeta. I can't imagine that he'll get over losing me, and be able to move on with his life and be happy again one day. Because Peeta is going to die, too. He's never going to see his family again. Someone, some other victim of the cruelties of the Capitol, will kill him. A hovercraft will come to collect his body, and that will be it. No more Peeta. And after, or maybe before, there will be no more _me_, either.

Eventually, I cry myself to sleep. I have disturbing dreams filled with memories of things that I've seen happen in past Hunger Games.


	2. The Tributes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>One day last week, Madge and I met up outside school and were just going to go find Prim when Peeta came out of the building and walked over to us. "Hello Katniss," he said, smiling at me.<p>

"Hi."

"Hi, Madge," he said, looking over at her.

"Hi," she replied in a friendly tone.

Peeta turned back to me, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Katniss, I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk… with me," he said.

"Oh," I said, surprised and nervous. "Well, my sister -"

"I'll walk home with Prim," Madge offered quickly and with a smile.

I looked over at Madge and felt grateful. Prior to this, I didn't know how I would react if Peeta tried to spend time alone with me. But now that he had, I would have been disappointed if I'd had to say no to him. "Thanks," I said to Madge, then turned back to Peeta. "That sounds nice."

Peeta smiled and I started to feel nervous again. I took a deep breath, in hopes of calming myself down, and then Peeta and I started walking away from school and in the direction of the Seam. I wondered what was going to happen on this walk. Surely he wouldn't try to kiss me, right? I didn't feel ready for anything like that, I still hardly knew him. And besides, what could ever happen between us?

"We don't have to go straight to your house," he said after we were a block away from school.

I looked over at him and had no idea what to say. "Well, is there some other place you want to go?" I asked, hating how obviously nervous my voice sounded. What was wrong with me? _He's just a boy_, I thought, _am I really this shy?_

Peeta smiled reassuringly. "I don't know," he said, "we could do whatever you want."

I tried to think of what I might like to do, but nothing came to mind. I didn't usually spend much time in town. My family doesn't have money to spare, so we seldom go to any of the shops. Besides, there wasn't much to do in town anyway. I bit my lip and tried to think of other possibilities. The town, the Seam, the woods. I wondered if I should take Peeta into the woods. Looking over at him, I realized that I did want to prolong the walk, and didn't want to go straight home.

I smiled, fueled by a small amount of confidence. "Have you ever been out in the woods?"

Peeta's eyes widened a little. "No," he said, "I wouldn't know how to get past the fence."

"I do," I told him.

He looked at me quizzically, waiting for more of an explanation.

"I…well, I hunt there with my father."

"Really?" Peeta said, smiling, "that sounds great."

"It is," I said, "but don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't," he assured me.

We talked a little about school and some of our classes until we reached the weak spot in the fence near my house in the Seam. I looked around, but no one was in sight, so I listened and made sure the fence wasn't charged at the moment. Then Peeta and I slipped through the weak spot and started walking into the woods. I was glad I wasn't going to try to hunt on this trip, because Peeta's footfalls were surprisingly loud and he was certainly scaring away all the game.

"It's nice out here," Peeta said.

"I love it," I said. I found myself thinking that talking to Peeta was easier than I thought it would be. He was so nice and always came up with new things to talk about if I was silent for a few seconds.

We made our way to the log where my father and I keep the bows, and sat down. I rarely come across dangerous animals in the woods, but it felt good to have my bow nearby just in case.

"How long have you been hunting here?" Peeta asked.

"Well," I said, looking around us at the lush green trees towering high and blocking out much of the sky. "My father started showing me how to use his bows when I was pretty young, maybe ten or something. But I've only been hunting with him regularly for about four years now, I guess." I looked back over at Peeta and saw him smile.

"_Only_ four years?" he asked.

"I guess that is a long time," I said, laughing a little.

"You must be really good by now," he said.

I shrugged and found myself wanting to know more about him. "Do you like working in the bakery?"

"Sure," Peeta said. "I decorate the cakes."

"Really?" I asked. Somehow I'd always assumed his mother did them. "You're good. Prim likes to look at them when we walk by. They're really nice."

Peeta lowered his eyes. "Thanks," he said, sounding a bit shy all of a sudden.

"And…you've got two brothers, right?" I asked, though I knew perfectly well that he did. But I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah, both older," Peeta said, smiling and returning his eyes to mine. "They're all right."

I smiled at his halfhearted kind words about them.

"I get along with my oldest brother pretty well," he said.

"That makes sense," I said, feeling more at ease with Peeta all the time. "Prim and I are four years apart and I've always thought that was a good age gap. We're not so close in age that we're competitive with each other, but we are close enough to have been children together, and…" I let my voice trail off, afraid I'd started to ramble.

We were silent for a few seconds, then Peeta reached out and gently placed a hand over mine, which was resting on my knee. I felt my face get warm and hoped it wasn't turning red. Peeta smiled and gave me a look that I didn't quite know what to make of. If I had to guess, I would have said he was staring at me with…admiration? Adoration?

"You're very pretty, Katniss," he said softly, leaning forward slowly.

I managed a small smile and felt my face get even warmer. I found myself thinking that when Madge said Peeta was cute, it was an understatement. Without really even thinking about it, I started leaning forward minutely. But that was when we were interrupted.

"Oh," said a voice, seemingly very surprised.

Peeta and I reflexively leaned apart and looked over in the direction from which it had come. Gale Hawthorne was standing about twenty feet away, a knowing look on his face. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Sorry," Gale said, "I didn't mean to interrupt -"

"You didn't," I lied quickly.

He nodded, then turned and walked away and I stared down at the ground for a second.

"I'll be right back," I said to Peeta, then stood up and chased after Gale. We were out of earshot of Peeta by the time I caught up to him. "Hey, wait," I said, trying to keep up with his long strides.

Gale stopped and turned to me. "What?"

"You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?"

Gale pressed his lips together and, though his face stayed serious, I got the feeling he was trying not to laugh. "Why would I do that?" he asked eventually.

Good question. I suddenly felt like an idiot for coming after him. Why would he tell, and who would he tell? And so what if he did? Ugh, what is wrong with me? "I don't know," I said quickly.

Gale smiled a little and said, "It's not a big deal, Katniss. I wouldn't have said anything, I just…you know what it's like when you think you're alone and then find out you're not? I was surprised. And anyway, do you think I've never brought a girl out here?"

Actually, I did think that. "I don't know," I told him.

"Well, you're secret's safe with me," he said, then seemed to reconsider and smiled a little again. "But, I might ask you for a small favor in the future."

"Like what?" I asked.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," he said.

_Well, this is weird_, I thought. What could I ever do for him? Oh well, he said a _small_ favor, so I supposed there was nothing to worry about. I nodded, and Gale turned and walked away. I went back to find Peeta, who was still sitting on the log. He looked confused and maybe a little worried, too. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I just -" I'd realized how stupid it was of me to chase after Gale like that, and to think that he would think Peeta almost kissing me was as big a deal as it was to me. But I decided that honesty was the best policy, so I said, "Sometimes my father and I see him here, and I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't mention this or something."

Peeta smiled and nodded. "I understand."

Still, the moment was ruined. "I'm ready to go home, I guess," I said.

Peeta looked disappointed for just a second, then he stood up and said, "Okay."

We made our way back over to the fence and I listened to make sure it was still uncharged. "Safe," I declared, looking over at Peeta.

He abruptly stepped forward, placing his hands on my upper arms, and kissed my cheek. He pulled back and looked at me, waiting to see what I would do. I smiled, then turned and climbed through the weak spot. Peeta followed and as soon as he was standing beside me again, I reached out and took his hand. We walked the short distance to my house like this, said goodbye on the sidewalk in front, and then I turned and headed inside. When I got in the door, I saw Prim standing by the window. She must have seen us.

Prim smiled. "Who was that?" she asked.

"His name is Peeta," I said, and couldn't help smiling back.

"I thought you might have been with a boy," she said, "when Madge said you were busy."

"Yeah, well…" I let my voice trail off. "You hungry?" I asked, remembering that I was usually the one who fixed an after school snack for both of us.

Prim nodded and we went into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Now, as I'm waking up in my bed in the Capitol, I find myself touching the spot on my cheek where Peeta kissed that day. I can remember perfectly how nice it felt and knowing it will never happen again brings more tears to my eyes. It's ridiculous, I know, to lament something like this. I feel silly for thinking about it, when I'm going to die. There are plenty of other, more important things that I'll never get the chance to do. Never getting to kiss Peeta should be far down on my list of reasons to feel sad.<p>

I take a deep breath and try to calm down. I don't want to go to breakfast puffy-eyed. I go into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, then brush my teeth and take a shower. I change into some fresh clothes, and head to breakfast, where Haymitch reminds Peeta and me that between now and the Games, we are to stick together and be friendly with each other.

Peeta and I meet up with Effie after breakfast, and she takes us down to the training room. Atala, the head trainer, tells us about the different stations to train at and that we're free to travel between them. Peeta and I start out tying knots and spend about an hour there. Then we move on to camouflage. Peeta seems to really like this station. He's very good at it too, swirling mud and clay and berry juices onto his skin and weaving disguises from leaves and vines.

"Right," I say, looking down at his work, "you're very artistic." I worry that he'll think I'm being sarcastic, referring to his cake decorating, but he looks up from his arm and smiles at me.

"Let me try it on you," Peeta says, "no such thing as too much practice."

I shrug one shoulder, then hold out my arm. Peeta quickly dips his fingers into some berry juice and I feel him make a few quick marks. He seems to have stopped for the moment, so I glance down and see a small arrow drawn on my arm. I look up at Peeta and see that he's grinning, and I can't help laughing.

"Thanks," I say, "I've always wanted a tattoo. You've fulfilled my last wish."

"Don't talk like that," Peeta says quickly, his smile fading, "you'll do fine."

Is he crazy? I look around the room at the other tributes, most of whom are significantly bigger than me, then I look at Peeta again. "Not if it comes to hand-to-hand combat," I say, "you'd do fine with that, though." We're both talking quietly, of course, so no one can hear us and know we're anything but completely confident in winning the Games.

Peeta looks down at my arm again and resumes working, turning the arrow into a real camouflage disguise. I find myself watching his face while he works; his blond-lashed eyes appear to be closed as he stares down at my arm. He has a healthy glow about him and looks so peaceful right now. I feel a lump forming in my throat and quickly look away from him. I can't believe he's going to die soon, that we both are.

When Peeta's done with my arm, the way he's alternated dark and light suggests sunlight falling through trees in the woods. "That's good," I say.

"Well, I had help," he says, smiling again, "I finally know what the woods look like, from the inside."

I start to smile back, but stop myself. It's ridiculous to smile at all right now, and I don't want to be _too _friendly with Peeta and make this harder than it already is. "Let's move on," I say, grabbing a towel to wipe the design off my arm. Over the next three days, we do pick up some valuable skills at the training stations.

We have our sessions with the Gamemakers. I felt like they weren't paying attention to me at all, as I demonstrated my archery skills, so I'm shocked when I score a ten out of twelve. Peeta scores an eight.

When it's time to train for our interviews, Peeta asks to be trained separately. I don't know why he wants this, but I'm glad we'll be spending time apart, because it's hard and frustrating being so friendly with him. I go off with Effie first, and she teaches me to walk in heels and lectures me on all sorts of things I should do in order to appear classy and poised. Then I meet with Haymitch and we try to figure out a way to present me, but can't come up with anything at all. It's Cinna who really helps me to feel less nervous, when he suggests I answer my questions as if I'm just speaking to him, and not the entire country.

For the interviews, District Twelve always goes last, so I have to sit through a lot of interviews before it's my turn to talk to Caesar Flickerman, the interviewer. I'm so nervous I can hardly register what happens in my interview, but I don't think it goes too badly. When I'm done, it's Peeta's turn, and his interview goes very well. He's so good at entertaining the crowd and he comes off as extremely likable. A ways into the interview, Caesar asks if Peeta has a girlfriend, and Peeta hesitates then gives an unconvincing shake of his head. Caesar says, "A handsome lad like you must have a special girl back home."

For the first time, Peeta looks a bit shy. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember, but..."

_Ever since he can remember?_ He must be talking about me…right?

"She have another fellow?"

"No," Peeta says, "but a lot of guys like her."

"So, you win the Games and go home, then she can't turn you down, right?" Caesar asks.

"Well, no. Winning won't help in my case," Peeta says.

I swallow hard, knowing what's coming next, but unable to believe it.

"Why not?" Caesar asks.

"Because she came here with me," Peeta says, blushing.

"Oh, that is bad luck," Caesar says, amid tormented sighs from the audience.

"It's not good," Peeta agrees.

The screens show me and I avert my eyes and feel that I'm blushing, too. _Why would he do this?_


	3. Games

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>After the interviews, we go back to the Training Center and I wind up in a room with Peeta, Haymitch and Effie. I feel sad about what Peeta's done, just as sad as everyone in the audience sounded over our predicament. Also, I can't help thinking that he may have made us both more vulnerable. When we're in the arena, someone might try to take advantage of his feelings for me, or mine for him.<p>

"Why would you do that?" I ask Peeta, "why would you tell everyone about us?"

But he doesn't get the chance to answer, because Haymitch starts talking about how Peeta made me memorable and desirable, and no one will forget us and that's going to help us during the Games. "You're the Star-Crossed Lovers from District Twelve," he explains.

I bite my lower lip and try to think logically. What Haymitch says makes sense, and I look at Peeta again. "Thank you, then," I say softly.

"You don't have to thank me," he says, stepping toward me, but I step away and he stops.

"I'm going to bed," I say, then leave the room.

I can't sleep, and find myself tossing and turning until I think I'll go mad. I've probably only been in bed half an hour or so, but it feels like an eternity. I realize I can't stand being in this bed, or this room, anymore and decide to go up to the roof, in hopes that the view and air will help to clear my head. Peeta's there and I have the impulse to turn and leave before he sees me, but I can't to go back to my room. I slowly walk over to him and we stand together looking out at the Capitol again.

He glances over and gives me a small, insincere smile. "I keep thinking about tomorrow, about what's going to happen in the arena," Peeta says.

"Of course," I say, "me too. How could we not?"

"And I keep thinking that I want to die as myself," he continues, "I don't want to change, and turn into some monster I'm not."

"Are you saying you won't kill anyone?"

"No. When the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill, like everybody else. But I wish I could show them I'm not just a part of their Games."

_What's the point in talking like this? _I regret that I didn't leave when I had the chance. "But you _are_ just a part of the Games, you have to be. That's the point." I'm annoyed and I know it's obvious in my voice.

Peeta turns and looks into my eyes. "I just want you to know," he says, "that you don't have to be afraid of me when we're in the arena. I would _never_ hurt you."

"Stop it!" I say, backing away from him. I can feel tears forming in my eyes. "How can you say that?"

Peeta reaches out and takes my hands, then pulls me toward him and hugs me. I know we shouldn't be friends, and we certainly shouldn't be hugging, but I can't pull away. He's trying to comfort me and it's working, even though I know it's making things worse in the long run.

"I promise," he says, placing a hand under my chin and tilting my face up toward his, "I promise I won't kill you." Then he leans in slowly, giving me a chance to stop him. But I don't, and kisses me. Again, I know I should to pull away, but I just can't. Instead, my arms make their way around his neck and I'm holding him tightly and kissing him back.

Eventually, Peeta's the one to pull away. We both open our eyes and he wipes some tears off my cheeks. Then he actually smiles and says, "I thought this might be my last chance to do that."

I start crying even more and Peeta gently pulls my head against his chest and strokes my hair as I sob and clutch tightly to him. Then, without really even thinking about it, I hear myself saying the words, "I promise I won't kill you."

And I mean it. Haymitch and I discussed my strategy, and I'm supposed to just take off running into the woods and avoid the bloodbath. I assume this is what Peeta will do also. I almost want to ask him to be allies, but we've already worked out our strategies and it seems too late to change plans. Plus, and I hate to even think this, but he would probably slow me down or be noisy. Alone, I could climb trees and hide and be completely silent, but if I was with Peeta, I know I would be more vulnerable, and maybe he would too. We're better off on our own, and I seriously doubt that we'll be the final two, so I don't think the issue of our keeping our promises will even come up.

I don't know how long Peeta and I stay like this, his arms wrapped around me and mine around him. My face against his chest and his cheek resting on my head. It's funny, we never hugged once in Twelve, but now that we don't have any time left, I'm glad to feel close to him. I've never felt like this before, not even during our walk, and it's nice. A nice way to say goodbye.

I stopped crying at some point. I pull away to look up at Peeta and he gently grazes his fingers over my face, wiping away a few remaining tears. I feel like I should say something, but can't think of a single sentence, phrase or word that feels appropriate. There's nothing left to say. We've both made it clear how we feel about each other, and we both know we're going to die. Peeta takes my hand in his and leads me to the door and down the stairs. He kisses the back of my hand, then releases it.

"Goodnight, Katniss," he says.

"Goodnight, Peeta," I say, then turn and go into my room. I'm not sure how much, if any, sleep I get. But by the time the sun rises I'm just not tired. It's terrifying, knowing I'm going into the arena soon. It's what I imagine being thrown into a bucket of ice water feels like, so how could I be tired?

I don't see Peeta in the morning. Cinna comes to give me a simple shift to wear, then we take a hovercraft to the location of the arena and are taken to my Launch Room. I change into my Games outfit, the same one all the tributes will wear. Cinna also places Madge's pin on me. "I managed to get it approved," he says.

"Thank you," I say with a hollow voice. I step onto my metal plate.

"Just remember to run and find water and…know that if I were allowed to bet, my money would be on you," Cinna says, then places a kiss on my forehead. "Good luck, girl on fire."

I nod and try to smile at him, but my face feels frozen, and then glass comes down around me, breaking us off from each other. The plate starts to rise, pushing me out into the open air. I see other tributes rising on their plates too. Then I hear Claudius Templesmith's voice announcing, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

* * *

><p>I haven't been able to sleep at all tonight. Of the various close calls I've had so far, this is definitely the worst. The girl from Two throwing her knife at my head when I tried to get the bow and arrows, getting burned, nearly dying of dehydration. This is more frightening than any of those things, because I can't run and I feel so hopeless. I can't think of a single way out. I'm trapped up here, with the Career tributes and Peeta at the bottom of the tree. The girl from One already tried shooting at me, but her aim wasn't good enough, and Cato, the boy from Two, tried to climb up to get me but the branches wouldn't support his weight.<p>

I'm not sure what they'll try next, but if they wait long enough, they won't have to do anything. I'll run out of water and food and then I'll drop out of the tree, dead.

I keep looking around, hoping for an answer that never comes to me. The sky has already started to lighten a bit and I'm afraid of what will happen when the sun rises. Suddenly, I see a pair of eyes nearby. They're big and dark and as I keep staring, I recognize Rue, the girl from Eleven, on a nearby branch. She's pointing at something, I think; something above me. I look up and see it. A tracker jacker nest. At first, I feel even more terrified, but then my mind starts working quickly. Maybe I can use it to my advantage. I take out my knife and make a sawing motion, then Rue climbs away.

Maybe, if I'm lucky, I can kill them all right now. But what about Peeta? I can't do anything that might hurt him. We've promised not to kill each other. In fact, I don't know if I could live with myself if I hurt him. I know the only reason he's teamed up with the Careers is to try to help me, somehow; it's the only thing that makes sense. It must have been a huge risk for him, pulling it off, and I wonder how he managed it. The Careers teaming up with someone from Twelve, even someone as strong as Peeta, is unheard of. Of course he's in danger, I even heard them debating whether or not to get rid of him soon.

I have to do something for Peeta, but what? I assume he and the Carrers are all still asleep. I'll have to throw something at him, I suppose. I think of the items in my pack. Maybe I could toss a cracker or the glasses at him, but with objects so light or odd-shaped, I'm likely to miss. I look around me and spot a pinecone nearby. I pull it off the branch and examine it, turning it over in my hand. It might just work. It might be perfect. I climb as far out onto the branch as I can, so that he'll be able to see me. I hope that my throwing aim is as good as my aim with a bow and arrow. Because if it isn't, I'm liable to hit someone else and any one of them could wake up and quickly alert the others that I've started throwing things at them. And then I'm stuck up in a tree and at their mercy again, for who knows how long?

I'm surprised to find that Peeta's sitting up. Has he been awake all night? He's turned away from me, though, and I'm afraid that if I aim for his head, the pinecone will bounce off and hit one of the Careers, so instead I aim for the unoccupied ground in front of him. I take a deep breath to gather courage, then throw the pinecone. It hits where I wanted it to, and doesn't disturb anyone. Peeta jolts a bit, but doesn't make any noise. He quickly looks around and realizes that the others are still asleep, then turns to look up at the tree. I frantically start waving to him and he sees me. Then I wave one of my arms back and forth, flicking my wrist as if to say, _Move away, get out of here!_

Fortunately, Peeta takes the hint. He slowly stands up and manages to quietly back away from the Careers. I want him to keep moving, to run as far as he can from this dangerous situation, but when he's reached the edge of the clearing, he stops and looks up at me. I wave for him to move again, and he shakes his head. Frustrated, I gesture a couple more times, but now Peeta doesn't even respond, he just keeps staring at me.

I have no choice but to climb back over to the tracker jacker nest and wait for the morning anthem to play. Hopefully I'll have time to sever the branch during the anthem, when the sound of my sawing will be drowned out. It begins and I quickly start to saw. One of the tracker jackers comes out and stings me. The pain is instant and piercing. I hear buzzing from within the nest and become terrified. I saw faster, and another one comes out and stings me. How thick is this branch? How can I still be sawing? My vision begins to alter. I don't know what's wrong, exactly, but it's almost like things are…shimmering? Shining? I have to keep sawing, in spite of the pain.

Finally, _finally_ the branch is severed and the nest drops down on the Careers. The girls from Districts One and Four are in the worst spot, right at the bottom of the tree. But the boy from One, and both tributes from Two are able to stand up and take off running, and I hear shouts of, "The lake! The lake!"

Along with Peeta, they run away, disappearing into the woods. As I climb down the tree, I can't help feeling afraid for Peeta. Hopefully, the Careers were too distracted by the tracker jackers to notice that he was already removed from the mayhem I created.

_Oh no_. The tracker jacker venom is quickly becoming impossible to ignore. I see the rigid, lifeless bodies of the girls below me and when I drop out of the tree, I'm too out of it to try to avoid hitting the girl from One. Everything is shining and glittering. I can hardly see straight, but I do have enough rational thought left in me to remember that she was the one with the bow and arrows. _My_ bow and arrows. I start clutching at her, trying to flip her over so that I can get my weapon. But her skin is melting. I stare down at this horror and try to tell myself that it's not real. That the firmness of her body, under her melting skin, can't be real either. She's as hard as a rock. Can the venom have done this to her? Am I next? I have to get the bow and then I can get out of here. I hear two cannons fire, one right after the other, for each of these girls.

She's so heavy! How can she be so heavy? Ugh, how can she be that color? I feel sick. I get my hands on the bow and am just starting to yank it off of her when I hear a crashing sound coming from nearby. I look up and see that Peeta has returned, dripping with water from the lake, and the venom makes it look like he's glittering. He rushes toward me, spear in hand, and I can't help feeling afraid. It must be the venom. "What are you still doing here?" he says frantically, "get up!"

I've got the bow now and I try to stand up, but then immediately fall back to the ground. Peeta quickly reaches down, taking my hand, and helps me to my feet again. He seems perfectly all right, and I hear myself asking, "You? Are - are you -?"

"I'm fine," he tells me quickly, "none of them got me. You have to get out of here!"

That's when we hear more crashing footsteps. I can just see Cato, who has a big sting under his eye, coming toward us before I turn my back and begin staggering away. I hear noises and I realize that he and Peeta must be fighting. I try to keep moving fast, but I feel weak. I hear someone cry out and the voice sounds so pained that I think one of them must be dead. But which one? I can't look back and I certainly can't go back to check. A cannon fires. I just have to keep moving. I don't know how far I make it before I fall to the ground, rolling over onto my back and clutching the bow and arrows with all the strength I have. I look up at the florescent, glowing sky and hear loud, echoing footsteps that I barely have enough logic left to remind myself are exaggerated by the venom.

I'm too far gone to even fear for my life. Resignedly, I realize that Cato must have killed Peeta, with his superior strength and brutality, and now he's come after me. But as I stare up at the person who's reached me, I see a distorted, frightening vision that has unmistakably glowing blond hair. When he leans over me, I get a better look at him. It's Peeta. But how can that be? Could the venom make me hallucinate something like this? When I feel his arms reach under me, and then realize that he's carrying me, I decide that this _must_ really be Peeta. Anyone else would have killed me. He seems to be walking very fast as he takes me farther away from the scene of the tracker jacker attack. It's not long before I black out.


	4. Allies

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>When I wake up, the first thing I see is a huge dark rock above me. I realize that I must be in some kind of cave. The next thing I'm aware of is that my head is propped up slightly, and a hand is gently running its way over my hair. "Hey," Peeta says, from above me, "it's good to see your eyes again."<p>

"Peeta?" I ask. My voice sounds hoarse and weak. Peeta slides out from under my head, replacing his lap with a wadded up article of clothing, and then holds a water bottle up to my lips. "Did you purify it?" I choke out.

"Yes," he tells me, with a smile.

I drink quickly, finishing off the bottle. It makes me feel about a thousand times better and I manage to sit up and lean against the cave wall. My stings still hurt, but not nearly as badly as they did at first.

"I guess we're allies now?" I say.

Peeta smiles. "We've always been allies."

I feel myself smiling back.

"You must be hungry," he says, "I saved you the crackers." He roots around in my bag and then quickly hands me the small package of food.

"Thanks," I say, "I can go hunting soon, too."

Peeta sits down next to me, his side turned to the wall of the cave that my back is leaning against. "No hurry," he says.

I open the package and eat one cracker, then I ask him, "What happened?"

Peeta smiles. "Well," he says, "I was reaped and you volunteered for Hunger Games -"

"I remember that," I say, smirking, "what about after the nest fell?"

"They all got stung," Peeta says, his smile fading. "We ran to the lake to get rid of the tracker jackers -"

"Why didn't you just take off sooner, like I tried to tell you to?" I snap, remembering how frustrated I was when he started to ignore my waving. He should have gotten farther away, to make sure he didn't get stung.

"Like I could have left you there!" Peeta says, "up a tree, with five of the most dangerous tributes at your feet."

I shake my head. "Yeah," I admit, "I guess it all worked out for the best." I eat another cracker.

"It did," Peeta assures me. "And I didn't think I could ditch them yet. I knew they were still a threat to you and I had to pretend to still be allied with them, so I ran to the lake with Cato and Marvel and Clove. I figured they would stay there, but Cato followed me when I came back. I couldn't believe you hadn't gotten out of there yet and I tried to get you to move. Do you remember that?"

I nod, trying not to dwell, for the moment, on how determined he's been all along to keep me alive, even at great risk to himself. "I had to get the bow."

"Well, when you finally started to leave, Cato got back. He must have been stung more than once and he was in bad shape. Too far gone to try throwing his spear, I guess, so he just came at me, and…well, you saw I had a spear, too." He looks almost pained as he pauses and stares down at his hands. "He tried to cut my leg, I think, but I was faster and got away from him. When he missed me, he kind of staggered and leaned forward and I…stabbed him through the chest. Then I went to get you and eventually found this place," Peeta says.

"You killed Cato?" I ask, wide-eyed and incredulous.

Peeta's eyes meet mine and he gives me a good-natured smirk. "Don't sound so shocked," he says, "you wouldn't have thought I could handle Cato?"

No. I definitely wouldn't have thought he could. I remember how the tracker jacker venom affected me and I know that's the only reason Peeta won the fight. Cato must have been losing control over his mind and body as the venom made its way into his bloodstream. Of course Peeta, who wasn't even stung once, had a huge advantage. "I…well, I don't know," I say, "I thought he was the most dangerous one."

Peeta nods and acknowledges, "He was very strong."

"So are you," I say, reaching out and taking Peeta's hand. But it isn't enough, not after what he's done for me, so I reach both arms out toward him

He leans forward and hugs me gently for a few seconds, then we both let go and Peeta's smiling again. "What was that for?" he asks.

"Saving me," I say.

"You saved me, too," Peeta says.

"Did I?"

"Sure, just by dropping the nest. I don't know how much longer they were going to keep me around and I couldn't exactly run away from them," Peeta explains. "And I really appreciate that you woke me up and warned me." He smiles.

"Of course I warned you," I say quickly.

"You got us both out of a bad situation," Peeta continues.

I realize he's right, that our escape was a team effort, and I eat another cracker.

Peeta's smile starts to fade while we're both silent.

Once I've swallowed my cracker, I ask, "You okay?"

"I will be," Peeta says, "I just…keep seeing Cato."

He's upset over having to kill someone; I can understand that. I realize that I was responsible for the deaths of the girls from One and Four, but whatever Peeta did to Cato must have felt worse than dropping that nest did for me.

I nod, and try to sound consoling as I say, "It must have been awful."

"I'm glad I did it for you, though," Peeta says, "it made it a little easier. Easier than if I'd only killed him in defense of myself. I just _couldn't_ let him get to you."

Well, I'm glad I'm able to console him in this, if no other, way. I eye Peeta up and down. "Were you hurt at all?"

"No," he says, "like I said, Cato wasn't in much condition to fight and the tracker jackers didn't get me either, so I'm fine. Just hungry. You, on the other hand…" he reaches out and brushes a few stray hairs off of my forehead.

That's a relief, hearing he's not wounded. I can still hardly believe that he went up against Cato and lived to tell about it. A thought occurs to me. If I didn't know I could trust Peeta, I might not have warned him before dropping the nest, and then where would we be? I was pretty shocked to find out he'd teamed up with the Careers and for just a moment I felt unsure of him. It's so hard to trust, in a situation like that. But then I thought again of our last conversation on the roof. He seemed so sincere and really does seem to care about me a lot. I'm so glad I was smart enough to trust him, no matter how confusing his actions were.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to team up with the Careers? That was really dangerous," I say.

"This whole thing is dangerous," Peeta reminds me, "I thought you'd try to stop me and we'd just end up arguing during the little time we had left. And there wouldn't have been any point, my mind was made up."

"It _was_ dangerous," I repeat. I want to be angry with him for keeping this from me, but everything has worked out all right so far. He was right to team up with them, it's kept us both alive. There's a nagging voice inside me, reminding me that we can't both stay that way. In some ways, things are harder now. What if, somehow, we are the last two? I remind myself of the remaining Career tributes and Thresh. They're all very powerful. Strangely, this consoles me; how could Peeta and I be the final two, with them to contend with? I allow myself to be happy to be with him again and try not to think about what's going to happen in the future.

"Did you and Haymitch work it out, that you would team up with the Careers?" I ask.

"Yes," Peeta says, "I told him that I would do whatever it takes to help you and we decided together that that would be the best way. I know I would have just slowed you down if we'd been together from the beginning. You couldn't have slept up in a tree if I'd been with you." Right. I still find it unnerving that his sole plan in the Games seems to have been keeping me alive. I don't want to think about it.

I reach out to touch Peeta's face, but he catches my hand and kisses it. I've seen my father do this with my mother and wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely his father and witch of a mother wouldn't display affection like this. Almost immediately after he's taken my hand in one of his, and pressed the back of it against his cheek, there's a loud clanging sound at the mouth of the cave. Peeta goes to investigate, taking the knife with him, but he returns with a pot of broth.

"Look what Haymitch sent you," Peeta says, smiling at me. He sits beside me again, and insists that I eat the whole pot.

As he feeds me, I can't help remembering the first time we spoke. I think we were eleven years-old.

I'd forgotten my lunch at home, and Madge would have shared hers with me, like she had before, but she was home sick that week. I was sitting by myself, my stomach growling, just waiting for lunchtime to be over so I could go back to class and then get home. I had the end of my braid in my hands and was fidgeting with it, just for something to do.

I saw a shadow on the table in front of me and looked up. Peeta was standing there, his blue eyes wide and a nervous smile on his face. "Hi," he said.

"Hello," I said.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Oh," I said, surprised, "um, go ahead."

Peeta's smile grew and he took a seat across from me. "Did you forget your lunch?" he asked.

I nodded, then looked at Peeta's hands for the first time, and saw that he was holding a small loaf of bread. He held it out toward me. "It's a couple of days old, but not bad," he said.

"Oh, I'm all right," I said, "it's yours."

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"You must be." I couldn't believe him. Why would he do this?

"There's plenty for both of us, then," he said kindly. It wasn't true, though. The small loaf wasn't really big enough to share. He broke it, then held half out toward me.

I continued to hesitate, while I stared at the bread, but then I looked at Peeta's face again and he looked so kind and sincere that I found myself reaching out and taking the proffered bread. I started to eat and it was very good, hearty and filled with raisins and nuts. It didn't take long to finish the bread, but I was surprised that Peeta stayed with me while we both silently ate our halves.

"See you," Peeta said, then quickly stood up and left. That was when I realized I didn't even thank him. But I never forgot his kindness.

Now, in the cave, with the last of the broth gone, I smile at him and say, "Always feeding me."

Peeta seems to think for a moment, then says, "You remember that? I thought you didn't know I existed, until a few weeks ago."

I shake my head. "Of course I remember it. And…thank you."

"Didn't you thank me before?" Peeta asks, smiling.

"No," I say, "I didn't. You stood up and left and then I felt bad about not getting the chance," I say. I'm surprised he doesn't remember, but I guess he was too nice to focus on my blunder.

"You're welcome, then."

We're silent for a few seconds, as we stare at each other. I decide that we need to talk again, so that I don't think about him too much. I let myself can't get attached. "So, who's left?"

"Marvel from One and Clove from Two. They had the boy from three with them also. They had him reactivate some of the mines around the plates and that's how they keep their food guarded."

"I didn't know those things could be reactivated," I say, "he must be smart."

"District Three," Peeta reminds me, "electronics."

I nod. "Okay, so the three of them, Foxface…"

Peeta gives me a quizzical look and one side of his mouth raises in an amused smile. "Foxface?"

"Oh," I say, "the girl from Five. Don't you think she looks like a fox?"

"I guess," Peeta says, still smiling, then he adds, "Thresh and Rue are both still alive."

"Eight of us," I say. I know it won't help to talk like this, especially with the sponsors, but I speak without thinking. "I bet Thresh will win now, along with Cato I would have said he was the strongest one."

"Hey," Peeta says good-naturedly, "what about me? I got rid of Cato."

I smile, humoring him. "You're right. I bet you'll win."

Peeta shakes his head. "No, I'm going to make sure that you do."

I want to tell him to stop saying things like this, but I decide to just ignore the remark.

"Marvel's not to be overlooked," Peeta says, backtracking to our discussion of the remaining tributes. "Especially since he's from One, we know he'll have good sponsors. And Clove, she could be dangerous. But I bet we can count on them to kill the boy from Three. And I don't think Rue or the girl from Five got any weapons."

"Okay, so three really dangerous opponents."

"Right."

I remember Rue warning me about the nest. I can't help feeling glad that she's still alive; I feel like I owe her something and I wish I could have a chance to repay her somehow. I'd be willing to take her on as an ally, because obviously she's smart enough to still be alive, and she's so young. I hope she's not too scared out there, but how could she not be scared? She must be terrified. I don't know where she is, though, and can't exactly go looking. I remind myself that having another ally would only make this harder. It's bad enough to have one person, Peeta, who I couldn't kill. Of course, I wouldn't be able to kill Rue anyway, but I don't want to like her too much, either.

Suddenly, we hear the blaring sound of the anthem. Peeta and I go to the opening of the cave and hear an announcement from Claudius Templesmith. Then he says it a second time. It's a good thing, too, because otherwise I wouldn't have believed it.

Two tributes from the same district can win as a team? It takes a few seconds for the news to sink in. I can hardly believe what it could mean for Peeta and I. It's shocking and astounding that this would happen. The whole point of the Games is for twenty-three people to die. It's unbelievable that they would let two of us live.

Peeta and I retreat back into the cave once the announcement is over. I look up at him, with wide eyes. He smiles, and I think to myself that I've never seen anyone look so happy. "Katniss," he says, stepping toward me and wrapping his arms around me tightly. I hug him back and feel my feet lifted off the ground. "It's for us," Peeta continues, "they did it for us."

I can't believe it. I know the Games are far from over, but I can't help feeling happy. I begin to embrace the possibility of Peeta and I both making it out of the arena alive. Going home to District Twelve, with Peeta, and picking up where we left off before this whole thing happened. But…will I really be able to do that? Just go home, and pretend that everything is okay, after all of this? I don't know.

Peeta sets me down and then distracts me by bringing up the second part of the announcement. I was so shocked by the rule change that I couldn't even think about the other thing we were told. It seemed so insignificant. "We're not going to the feast," he says flatly.

"Of course not," I agree. Supposedly, there is something there that we need, but I can't think of a single thing that would make attending the feast worthwhile. It's not surprising that they would want to drive us together like this, I bet nothing has happened at all since I dropped the nest. I also wonder if the feast is aimed at someone in particular. Are other tributes having a harder time than Peeta and I? Do they desperately need something? I hope so. I hope this feast will drive them together so they can fight amongst themselves. "I wonder what'll be there, though."

Peeta shrugs, smiling. He leans forward and gives me quick kiss on the forehead. "We have everything we need."

He's right. We have the sleeping bag, weapons, shelter, my ability to hunt, and our alliance, which will never be broken. I don't know what else we could hope for at this point.

Still, I keep thinking about the feast. I assume there will be deaths tomorrow morning, when it's to be held. I wonder who will be left afterwards, for Peeta and I to face.


	5. The Cave

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>"We must be popular," Peeta says with a smile.<p>

"Thanks to you," I reply. The Star-Crossed Lovers ploy was all his idea. He was so smart to tell everyone how he feels about me, it may save us both.

"With sponsors, too," he says.

"Have you gotten anything else yet?"

"No, you?"

"Oh, just some burn ointment," I say, tentatively.

Peeta nods, seemingly unsurprised. "I knew you were Haymitch's favorite." He smiles.

"He hates me," I say, with a scoff.

Peeta shakes his head. "Can't wait till he's our neighbor." We sit down on the cave floor, against the wall, again.

"Right, he'll be our _only_ neighbor."

His arms find their way around me. "That'll be nice," Peeta says, grinning, "you and me and Haymitch. Very cozy."

I can't help laughing. "Yeah. Picnics on the weekends -"

"And sitting around the fire telling old Hunger Games tales."

The thought of that is even funnier. I know I shouldn't be so cheerful, because we're still in horrible danger. But now that I'm with Peeta, and we both have a chance at surviving this, I feel happy. Here in the cave with him, I can almost pretend we're not in the Games.

But then a thought occurs to me. "Thresh and Rue," I say, "they're the only other ones left who would benefit from the rule change. I hope they find each other. If we don't win, I want the both of them to." Ugh, I have to stop saying things like this.

"We're going to win," Peeta says quickly, but then he adds, "But I'd want them to win, too…if we weren't here."

"Do you know where Thresh is?" I ask.

"There's a field of tall grass," Peeta tells me, "he took off that way. No one wanted to follow him, because the grass has a sinister feel to it. We didn't know what might be in there."

We're silent for a few seconds, while I consider this knowledge and try to imagine how Rue might find him. I hope she knows where to look; if she was with Thresh, she wouldn't have to be so scared.

I feel like screaming. Why am I thinking like this? If they're together, it will only make things worse for Peeta and me, right? There's no point in hoping for the best for them, because ultimately I don't want them to win. It's exasperating and I decide we need to keep talking, so I don't dwell. I don't want to think about the little girl, or the strongest remaining tribute.

"It's a good thing Cato's gone," I muse, "he and Clove would be a lot more dangerous to us if they could work as a team until they're the last two. But Clove and Marvel might not be as bad." _I hope._ I feel callous, talking like this, but I can't help it. I really want Peeta and I to go home, and that means no one else can. That's just the way it is.

"You're right," Peeta says.

I suddenly feel hungry again. That broth wasn't very substantial, and obviously I didn't eat during the long time I spent unconscious from the venom. But I'm still a little woozy and my stings hurt. The prospect of leaving this cave and focusing intently on hunting seems daunting. "I guess I don't feel well enough to hunt yet…have you had anything to eat?"

"Don't worry about me," Peeta says. He turns his head so that his lips are right at my ear. "Besides, I have another idea," he whispers, "I think Haymitch was sending us a message before, with the broth. We should talk about us."

"Us?"

"You know, the Star-Crossed Lovers."

I smile at his use of our title, this whole thing is pretty amusing. I put the pieces together and realize he may be right. I bet Haymitch does want us to play up that angle, especially since the rule change. It could help with the sponsors. "So, you said you'd liked me forever," I say, with a small smile. "When did forever start? When you gave me the bread?"

"No," Peeta says, smiling back. "The first day of school."

"Not the first day ever."

He nods. "When we were five. My father pointed you out to me, and told me that…well, that he was friends with your mother when they were younger. I remember you had your hair in two braids and wore a red plaid dress. In assembly, the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song and your hand shot right up and you sang it. You had a beautiful voice and I knew right then, that I was a goner."

I vaguely remember singing the song, and can recall Prim wearing a hand-me-down red dress that eventually became a rag before we threw it out. I can't believe that Peeta would remember this. "You have a very good memory," I tell him.

"I remember everything about you," he says, "you're the one who wasn't paying attention."

"I am now," I say, threading my fingers through his.

"Well, I don't have much competition at the moment," Peeta says with a smile.

"You _never_ have any competition," I say quickly. This response is so true that saying it feels like a reflex. The words were out of my mouth before I even thought them through.

Peeta gives me that look again, like that day in the woods, and starts to lean toward me. My eyes fall shut just before his lips meet mine. This isn't our first kiss, but it feels like it is. I'm not crying like I was on the roof, so I'm able to focus only on him. I feel his hand slide around to the back of my neck, and gently run up into my hair, and then I begin to feel a stirring in my chest as his lips move with mine. It's warm and curious, and I don't want this moment to end, but a startling clanging sound outside the cave causes us to pull apart. Peeta stands up to see what we've gotten now, while I lean back against the hard wall of the cave and try to compose myself.

Peeta returns with a gift from a sponsor. We open the package together and are both shocked at the extravagance of the meal. It's lamb stew, just like we ate in the Capitol. We're worried about being able to keep it down, though, so we only eat a small amount and intend to have more in an hour, once our stomachs are used to the first bit of food. Now we have time to talk again. I figure we may as well stick to an entertaining subject.

"So," I say, trying to sound coy, "what took you so long? To talk to me?"

Peeta smiles and looks down as he puts the food away. "I don't know. I wanted to a thousand times. Sometimes I would see you and imagine myself going over and just saying hi, but I could never do it for some reason, when I didn't have the excuse of sharing food with you."

"What changed a couple of weeks before the Games? When you talked to Madge and then did say hi to me?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Well, we're getting older," he says, "and looking back on it, maybe I was conscious of the approach of the reaping. Of course, I didn't really think it would affect either of us, but it's always a possibility. I didn't want to waste any more time."

Once he's finished packing up the food, Peeta returns to where he was sitting before, at my side and against the cave wall. I link my arm around his and hold his hand. He kisses my forehead.

"I would have volunteered," he says, looking into my eyes, "if I hadn't been reaped. I couldn't have let you come here alone."

His words just about knock the wind out of me. "You couldn't have," I say.

"What I couldn't have done was sit around in District Twelve watching this on television. Not while you were here. I couldn't stand knowing I might have been able to help you and was too scared to do it."

"But, even if you could have helped me, you couldn't have known about the rule change. You would have…" I let my voice trail off, as the realization that he was willing to volunteer to die for me sinks in. I don't want to believe it, I don't want to believe he cares for me that much. I _can't_ believe it, because it scares me. I tell myself that it's easy for him to say this now, but he couldn't possibly know what he would have done if he'd found himself in that situation, with a choice to make. I also try to tell myself that he's only saying this for the sake of the sponsors and audience.

The whole thing makes me sad, and I start to feel scared again, of what's to come. "I wish we could just go home now," I say.

Peeta reaches up and strokes my hair. "We'll be home before you know it," he says, with a smile.

My side is already pressed against his, but I can't resist trying to get closer. I lay my head on his shoulder then slowly slide my legs over his. I want him to make me feel safe and warm like he did when we hugged on the roof. Peeta must know how I feel, because his hands reach for my waist and he pulls me onto his lap. I rest my head against his chest and his arms wrap around me again.

"I love you," he says.

He's basically told me this already, just not in so many words, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to hear it confirmed outright. But I can't help being taken aback. I'm silent for a while, while I try to accept this fact. Peeta loves me. He loves me in a way that I never planned to be loved. I didn't expect it and I didn't want it, but I can't deny how good this feels. I don't think it's love, for me, but I definitely feel something for him. I resolve not to think about the future right now. It's bad enough just being here, in the arena. I refuse to worry about what's going to happen between Peeta and I if we both make it home. In this moment, I just want to let him make me feel better.

"I…" I start, but my voice trails off.

"It's all right," Peeta says consolingly, "I know it's only been a few weeks, for you."

I don't know what to say so I just squeeze his hand slightly, in hopes of reassuring him that I feel something for him. But he must know that already.

Peeta kisses the top of my head and adds, "I can wait."

I close my eyes, feeling tired again. His presence around me is so soothing. It's ridiculous, I know, but I feel safe somehow, being close to him and knowing how he feels about me. Whatever's between us was never a part of my plans, but I can't deny how nice it is.

* * *

><p>"Katniss?" Peeta's voice is soft, and I realize I must have fallen asleep, at least partway.<p>

"Hmm?" I say, opening my eyes and blinking a couple of times.

"We can eat again, if you want to," he says.

I nod, then pull away enough to look at him. "I do," I say, climbing off his lap. We take the food out again and eat more, and now I can't help thinking about what things might be like when we get home. I wonder how our families will react to all this. "I bet your parents will be thrilled that you've chosen a girl from the Seam to…like."

Peeta laughs. "Hardly," he says, "but I don't care. And besides, you won't be from the Seam anymore, you'll be from the Victor's Village."

And what about my parents? They didn't know about Peeta and I before the Games. I realize that I don't know if I'm even allowed to date, because the subject has never come up. But I can't imagine, after I've survived the Hunger Games, that they'll try to tell me I can't be with Peeta, if that's what I want.

The food makes me feel a lot better, and after my long sleep and short nap, I don't feel tired at all. When night falls, I insist on taking the first shift to keep watch. I sit down, facing the cave opening, bow and arrows in hand.

"You're going to freeze," Peeta tells me amusedly.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"They made it really cold last night," he says, climbing into the sleeping bag. He holds the top part of it open, inviting me in.

"Oh," I say, averting my eyes from his. "I'll be all right."

"Trust me, you won't."

"But…_you're_ in there," I say, looking at Peeta's face again.

He grins for a second, then says, "We both slept in here last night."

Well, that's interesting. I suppose I should feel grateful that he took such good care of me while I was unconscious from the venom. I know he's trustworthy, but it feels strange. I've never shared a sleeping bag with anyone before, and have only ever shared a bed with Prim.

"Oh," I say, because I don't know what else to say.

"It's not a big deal," Peeta says, smiling and continuing to hold the sleeping bag open.

Oh_ really?_ Hearing him say this doesn't make me feel any more comfortable about it. It's annoying, how funny he seems to find this. To prove a point, and because I am starting to feel a bit cold, I decide to go over there. I set my bow and arrows down next to the sleeping bag and then kneel down, to climb in.

That's when Peeta reaches out and pulls me toward him. Before I can even react to this, he's kissing me again. I almost feel like laughing, out of surprise, but don't want to end this. Even though I've never kissed anyone else, I can tell Peeta is good at it, and I can't help wondering how much practice he may have had. I know he's liked me for a long time, but that doesn't mean he's liked me exclusively.

Eventually, I pull away and Peeta looks as if he'd be happy to spend the rest of his life here, just staring at me. I let give him give me one more quick kiss, and then settle in. I lie on my side, with my back to him and my hand poised near the bow. His arms wrap around me securely.

"Not so tight," I say, wiggling my shoulders a little. I need to be able to sit up and shoot at a moment's notice and can't have him preventing that.

"Sorry," he says, loosening his hold. Then I feel him shifting behind me, leaning up on one arm, and he places a series of kisses along my neck and cheek, before he lies back down to sleep.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Peeta lets me sleep in longer than I would have wanted to. I can't put off hunting any longer. We need to keep our strength up.<p>

"Hopefully I won't be too long," I say, picking up my bow and arrows. "I'm going to walk along the stream and -"

"I'm going with you," Peeta says quickly, standing up.

What's he talking about? He can't come with me, I know he'll only be a nuisance while I try to hunt. "No, you stay here," I say, firmly.

"Don't be crazy." He picks up his spear. "You can't go out there alone, with Marvel and Clove and Thresh and the others. Any one of them could find you." He's making this sound worse than it is. They aren't _all_ out there, and Rue and Foxface would be unarmed. I open my mouth to protest, but Peeta speaks again. "Nothing bad has happened since we've been together," he says, "we need to stay that way."

Maybe he's right. I realize that I feel more afraid for him than I do for myself. I'm used to listening for even the slightest sound while I hunt, and feel confident that I would hear anyone coming. But I don't want to leave Peeta alone here. If Clove and Marvel or Thresh showed up, they would definitely be able to kill him. Ideally, I'd like Peeta to paint himself with mud and cover himself with leaves while I hunt, until I can come back and collect him. But I know he won't go for that.

I sigh, and accept that I'll have to bring him with me. Maybe if I _ask_ him to be quiet, and keep a small distance between us, it will be all right. I nod reluctantly, then look out at the area surrounding the cave. Two cannons were fired around the time of the feast. I wish I knew who was left, but we won't find out until tonight, when they display the faces of the dead in the sky.

I turn back to Peeta. "Are you ready, then?"

He walks to my side, then leans his spear against the cave wall. "I have a better idea," Peeta says. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me. I reciprocate for a few seconds, then gently pull away and wait. When nothing falls from the sky, I give Peeta a resigned shrug. As I expected, we can't keep getting food this way.

"Oh, I wasn't really expecting anything," he says, smiling.

I shake my head and we leave the cave.


	6. Hunting

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>I can't believe how badly this is going. I've asked him to be quieter, but his attempts aren't good enough. Up until now, I never thought much about how silent my father and I can be while hunting. He told me to be quiet the first time he took me into the woods, and by now it's second nature for the both of us.<p>

"I'm scaring away all the game," Peeta says eventually. "Show me some plants to gather and that way we'll both be useful."

"Not if the someone kills you," I say, turning back to face him. I tried to say it in a nice way, but it still sounds like I think he's a weakling. I hope my frustration over his loudness hasn't caused me to deliberately try to hurt him.

Surprisingly, Peeta just laughs. "I can take care of myself," he says, "I fought Cato, remember?"

I look at him with skepticism. Doesn't he remember that Cato was mentally incapacitated during that fight? If Peeta ran into the Careers, he'd be outnumbered, and if Thresh got to him he wouldn't have a chance.

But I can't deny that it's useless trying to hunt with him. I don't want to be separated any more than he does, but this is pointless. Reluctantly, I show him some roots to dig and teach him a whistle that we can use as our signal. I allow myself to drift away from him, whistling periodically, and get two rabbits and a squirrel. As I travel back, I realize we haven't exchanged signals for a while. When my whistle receives no response, I start to run. I find the backpack and a neat pile of roots and berries on the sheet of plastic. I begin to panic. Where is he? How could I have let myself get so far away?

I just barely have enough logic left in me refrain from screaming his name. That could easily lead to someone finding us, but I'm willing to chance it if I don't see him soon. I have to know if he's okay. I drop the rabbits and squirrel with the food Peeta gathered and then I hurry along the woods, parallel to the stream.

Finally, I hear a rustle in the brush and stop, positioning an arrow. But it's only Peeta who I see, stepping out into the open.

"Where were you? I whistled, and you didn't whistle back!" I sound frantic. I lower my bow, then sling it over my back and put the arrow away.

"I found some berries down by the stream," he says, confused by my outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. The water's too loud, I guess."

"I thought someone killed you." Now my voice is shaking.

Peeta comes toward me. "No, I'm fine," he says gently, carelessly dropping the berries he'd gathered to the ground. When his hands are free, he hugs me tightly.

My heart is racing and I realize I'm barely breathing, but the longer I spend tightly squeezing around his waist, with my head against his chest so that I can hear his heartbeat, the more I begin to accept that he's all right.

"I can't -" I start, but my voice is so shaky that I stop speaking.

"It's okay," Peeta tells me, pulling back to look at me and cup my face in his hands.

Staring into his eyes helps, too. "I can't lose you," I say.

He leans forward and presses his lips into mine, consoling me even more. In my head, I keep repeating to myself that he's all right, so that I don't start crying. But I was so terrified and it's hard to recover.

Peeta is first to pull away. "You won't lose me," he says.

We hear a cannon fire and both look around, but see no one. The hovercraft arrives, close enough for us to see it, and Peeta tries to tell me to climb a tree and hide, but I refuse to leave his side again. "No, Peeta." I take hold of his hand and squeeze it tightly.

His eyes lock onto mine and I can tell he was about to argue, but something about the way I'm staring at him must have changed his mind. Together, and as quietly as we can, we go over to the brush that Peeta emerged from before. We have to kneel down to be hidden, as we continue to scan our surroundings. I listen intently, arrow in place, but there's no sound that could be made by our fellow tributes. We wait in silence for a long time, and eventually I decide that we can't stay here forever. It doesn't seem like anyone is coming.

I slowly stand up and look around again. Peeta stands up, too. There's no one in sight. I stand guard while he picks up the berries he gathered, and together we return to where we both left the food we've gotten.

"That's funny," Peeta says, staring down, "I thought I got more than that." He adds the berries he just gathered to the rest of it.

I reach down and pick a berry out of the pile, examining it closely. I recognize it and look at Peeta with wide eyes. "You didn't eat any of _these_," I say. I assume if he had, he'd be dead already, but I need to hear him confirm it.

"No, what is it?"

"They're called nightlock," I say, "they're poisonous."

Peeta picks up a berry and looks at it closely. "Do you think…maybe this is why the cannon was fired?"

I look down at the pile and remember him saying that he thought he'd gathered more than this. "You think someone stole the berries and poisoned themself?"

Peeta nods. "I _know_ I got more than this. I wonder who it was."

I consider the possibilities. "Thresh or Rue wouldn't make that mistake," I say. They must know plants, being from District Eleven.

"If the Careers were here, I think we'd know about it," Peeta adds, "and they wouldn't need to steal food, anyway."

"Foxface, then." One less person to worry about.

We gather the food together, and I even save some of the berries in a little pouch. I figure it couldn't hurt to have them and they might even come in useful. I can't picture losing our weapons and resorting to force feeding the berries to someone, but who knows? We may as well have any sort of weapon we can get.

We spend the rest of the day walking back to the cave, cooking the meat and eating. Another cannon fires at dusk, and I'm glad we don't have to wait long to find out who it's for.

"That makes four today," I say to Peeta. I can hardly believe so much has happened so fast. There were the two fired around the time of the feast, then the one for Foxface, and now this. I can hardly stand not knowing who's left for us to face.

"That's good," Peeta says. It _is_ good for us, but he doesn't sound any more glad than I am. How can we be glad that people are dead? Even if they might have been forced to kill us, it's not their fault. It's the Capitol.

I nod and force a smile. I must look strange, though, because Peeta gives me a questioning look. I can't tell him that I feel angry, not with the cameras on us, picking up every word. So I try again, this time managing a real smile for him.

Finally, night falls, and the faces of the dead are displayed in the sky. The boy from Three (I guess the Careers decided he wasn't useful anymore), Foxface, Thresh, Rue.

I turn to Peeta and see that he looks just as surprised as I feel. "I can't believe Thresh…"

And Rue. I've assumed all along that she would die, but it's still sad. I can't help thinking of how she was the same age as Prim, and Rue wasn't lucky enough to have someone to volunteer in her place.

We retreat back into the cave and sit against the wall. Our weapons are nearby and I pull the sleeping bag over us, because it's already starting to get cold.

I keep thinking of Rue. She warned me about the tracker jacker nest, and I warned Peeta, and because of that we both escaped from the Career tributes. If it wasn't for Rue, we would both be dead already. We have to make sure that neither of the Careers, who murdered her and her and her district partner, win. She helped us and I won't let that act be in vain. I know it's the Capitol who I should feel mad at, but I can't help letting some of my anger transfer to the Careers. They're not like the rest of us; they trained and volunteered for the Games. They don't see this the way the rest of us do. I tell myself that letting Clove or Marvel win would be the same as letting the Capitol win. Now that Thresh and Rue can't win, I feel more determined than ever that Peeta and I be the victors.

"We have to win."

"We will," Peeta says, taking my hand in his. He looks down as he interlaces our fingers together. "I wonder what happened between all of them."

"We'll find out," I say, flatly. "In the Capitol, when we watch the recap of the Games. We'll see what happened then." Even I'm surprised by how certain I sound over our victory.

We sit in silence for a while, and as my anger starts to fade, it's replaced by fear. I can't help being afraid of the Careers. They're both so much bigger than I am. But I remind myself that I have Peeta. He's strong, too, and has already proved he doesn't scare easily. He hasn't trained like they have, but he scored an eight in the session with the Gamemakers. And I scored a ten. We have a chance.

I look over at Peeta. He must be able to tell that I'm worrying now. "Two against two," he says, "and you have the best weapon."

The best weapon as far as we know. I really hope Marvel and Clove don't have the kind of sponsors who would send a powerful weapon. Years ago, there was a victor named Finnick Odair, from District Four, who was sent a trident as a gift during the Games. He was extremely popular, though, because he's so gorgeous. This time, it seems like Peeta and I are the popular ones. We must be, if they changed the rules for us.

I nod, trying to remain positive. "It's not really two against two," I say, managing a smile. "We know they can't have an alliance as strong as ours."

Peeta smiles back, but I begin to wonder if our alliance will strengthen or weaken us. We'll be more loyal to each other, because we can both win. But on the other hand, because we care about each other so much, we could be at a disadvantage. Marvel and Clove will not be distracted by worrying about one another's safety, and they might be able to hurt Peeta or me because of this.

And their alliance must be strong also, even though it can't last. I'm sure they'll do everything they can to make sure they're the final two. They've been together since the beginning, and I assume that however Thresh died, both Marvel and Clove had a hand in it. It's the only thing that makes sense.

"You'll be able to do it, won't you?" Peeta asks, hesitantly.

"What, kill them?"

He nods.

"I will," I assure him, "I know I have to."

Peeta nods again. "I'm sorry, I just needed to hear you say it. You haven't really killed anyone yet, and when it came right down to it with Cato, I couldn't help hesitating. It didn't enable him to hurt me, luckily, but it was hard. I really had to _force_ myself to do it."

"I know it'll be hard," I say, "but I've accepted it."

It's also hard knowing that there are so few of us left. The Careers won't be distracted with picking other people off anymore, now that Peeta and I are the only ones standing in the way of them being the final two. I accept that we need to get this over with sooner rather than later. We don't discuss it, but I think Peeta feels the same way. We both know that tomorrow will be the day, which means that this could be our last night. When we climb into the sleeping bag, I don't face away from him, even though I'm supposed to be guarding us first. But my bow is right next to me and Peeta doesn't look tired, so he can see what's behind me. The spear is within his reach.

We settle in together, under the cover of the sleeping bag. I rest my head on one of his arms and the other one drapes over my waist. Our faces are only a few inches apart. We don't speak or smile, we just look at each other.

I don't know what he's thinking, but I realize that I've never felt so close to anyone before. Everything we've been through together seems to have made me very attached to him. I can't believe there was a time when he wasn't a part of my life. I consider kissing him, but don't really feel like it, because I can't pretend anymore that we're not in the Games. Besides, it's enough just to have him here, and be able to see him. I'm so glad I'm not alone right now, and that I won't have to face the Careers alone.

Eventually, when he starts to look tired, I turn away, toward the entrance of the cave. He sleeps for half the night, and then I reluctantly wake him. I don't feel tired at all but it would be foolish if I didn't at least try to sleep.

"Peeta," I say, softly running my hand over his jaw and cheek and then up into his hair. "Peeta, it's your turn."

His eyes open and he nods, then sits up and gets the spear. We switch sides, so Peeta and his weapon are closer to the entrance of the cave. I lay back and stare up at the ceiling for a while. I don't seem to be getting tired, so I roll onto my side. Peeta's facing away from me and I gently place my hand on his back.

I hear him chuckle. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I can't," I say, withdrawing my hand and laying back again.

He turns onto his stomach, and leans on his forearms. "You want me to sing to you?"

I smile, and pretend to be serious as I say, "Could you?"

Peeta grins. "I really didn't think you'd say yes…"

"Tell me a story, then," I say, "tell me…what's going to happen when we get home."

He begins with talking about the train ride, then mentions what seeing our families will be like. He talks about moving into the Victor's Village and how we'll be the most popular people in District Twelve because of the gifts we will have accrued for everyone. Occasionally he says something funny and I smile, now feeling too tired to even laugh. He's still speaking softly when I fall asleep.

* * *

><p>The next day, we eat all the food we have left and drink the last of our water. The stream has been drained. They're driving us together.<p>

"Let's just go now," Peeta says, "while we're fed and rested."

I nod. "Next time we eat, it will be in the Capitol," I say, trying to convince myself as well as him.

"You bet it will." I feel his arms wrap around me. We stand at the mouth of the cave for a few moments, and I try to do some positive visualization. I think of some of the things Peeta told me would happen, in his story last night. I try to picture standing with him when we get off the train, and taking his hand. I imagine us in the Victor's Village. That's what things will be like.

Without a word, we break apart and head for the lake. It's a long walk, and we didn't start out first thing. It's already early evening when we reach the plain. Clove and Marvel are nowhere in sight. There's no sign of anything, except the Cornucopia glowing under the slanting rays of the sun. We make sure they're not hiding behind or inside it, and then we sit near the lake, right in the open, weapons in hand. I don't know how long we spend there before we hear some mockingjays shrieking out a cry of alarm. Peeta and I are both on our feet instantly. I hitch an arrow into place, but don't know where to point it yet.

Suddenly, we see Marvel and Clove, crashing out of the woods. He has a very scary looking metal weapon slung over his back, she isn't carrying anything. I quickly decide that Marvel is the worse threat and let an arrow fly at him. It hits him right in the chest and he runs a few more steps, then falls. I aim for Clove and let a second arrow fly, but she must be wearing some kind of armor that deflects it. I don't have time to position a third arrow, and aim for her head, before she reaches us, and runs right between us. I realize that Peeta tried to stab her but failed, just as my arrow did.

Everything happens so fast that I don't have time to question why Clove and Marvel both looked so exhausted and frantic, before we see them. Horrifying wolf-like muttations running upright and straight toward us. Terrified, Peeta and I turn and take off after Clove.

She reaches the Cornucopia first and climbs up it. There's no other choice but to follow her. We couldn't reach the trees in time, and I don't think Peeta would be able to climb a tree anyway, not fast enough to escape these things. We start to climb up the Cornucopia too, but I'm much more dexterous and faster, so I reach the top first. I quickly turn back and begin shooting the mutts away from Peeta. One of them lunges at his leg and is scarily close to biting him when I send an arrow into his head.

Just when I remember that I have something else to worry about, besides the mutts, Clove grabs me. She hits me hard in the face and I taste blood, then realize she's pushing me toward the edge of the Cornucopia, across from where we just climbed up. She's much stronger than I am, but must be weakened from all that running for her life, and is still trying to catch her breath. I manage to reach out and grab her wrists. My grip is firm; I'm literally holding on for my life so that she doesn't push me off the edge. I feel a warm liquid as my nails dig into the skin on her wrists. She must realize that I'm not letting go, and if she keeps pushing at me, we could both go over, because I suddenly feel her hands around my throat, squeezing tightly, but that's when she's hit in the head and knocked away from me. I gasp in a breath of air and my hands fly up to my throat. It hurts but I don't think any permanent damage has been done. I look over at Clove. Her eyes are open but she looks completely stunned. Peeta must have hit her very hard. I watch as he finishes the job, pulling her up off the Cornucopia and then throwing her off the side and to the mutts.

Then he rushes to me and he's sitting down and pulling me toward him. "Are you all right?" he asks frantically.

I manage to nod, though I'm not entirely sure if I am all right. I lean against Peeta and hear him talking to me but I can't pay attention yet. I try to take deep breaths and calm down. That was so terrifying. I'm only vaguely aware of Clove's screams from below us. Eventually, I recover enough to form rational thoughts.

First, I realize that Peeta and I have basically won. Once Clove's screams end, that will be it. It will be over.

"Katniss?" Peeta says.

It hurts to talk, so I speak softly. "I'm all right, are you?"

"Fine," he says, tightening his hold on me. "You kept them away from me."

That's a relief. I realize how fortunate we are that we were both uninjured when we reached the Cornucopia, so it wasn't too hard to climb up it quickly. We're also lucky that Clove was already exhausted from running, otherwise she probably could have pushed me off the Cornucopia before Peeta got up here. It was scary how quickly she was able to overpower me.

"Good thing they didn't both have that armor," Peeta remarks.

I nod. That would have been bad, if we'd had to fight the both of them up here. We probably would have lost. I bet Marvel and Peeta would be equally matched strength-wise, and armor would have given the former an advantage. And, obviously, Clove could have killed me, and then the two of them would have been left to fight each other. I bet her armor, and that weapon Marvel had, are the things they got at the feast.

Clove's armor must be protecting her from the mutts somewhat, because we can still hear her screaming. In spite of what she did, I feel sick over the sound. Because now that she's not a danger to me anymore, I don't have to hate her and think she's as bad as the Capitol. I can think of her as a victim of the Games again.

Peeta must be upset over the screams too, because he asks, "Do you have any arrows left?"

I nod, then slowly climb away from him and get my bow. I look down and see Clove. Her armor is protecting her, mostly, but there's a lot of blood as the mutts slowly tear away at her. I position the arrow, aiming for her head, and let it fly. She's silenced, and a cannon fires. Then a hole opens in the plain and the remaining mutts bound into it.

"We won," Peeta says.

It's hard to feel happy, after what's just happened, but we both manage a small smile, for each other's sake, and because it's such a relief that this is finally over. I lean closer to him, resting my head against his shoulder.

But where's the hovercraft? Where's the anthem and the announcement of our victory?

I pull back and Peeta and I look at each other, both confused. He suggests that we might have to move away from the body, before they'll collect it. We climb down the Cornucopia and walk over to the lake. Nothing happens.

"What are they waiting for?" Peeta asks, taking my hand.

"I don't know," I say. I've never seen this happen before. Why won't they just make the announcement that we're the victors?

That's when we hear Claudius Templesmith's voice booming into the arena. "Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

There's a small burst of static and then nothing more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Explanatory note on Peeta's leg: If he did not have the original wound from the fight with Cato, I assume he would have been able to run and climb faster and would have been more likely to escape the mutts unharmed.


	7. Nightlock

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>The news sinks in. It's horrifying, but on some level I know I shouldn't be surprised. Of course they wouldn't let two people win. They only wanted to ensure the most dramatic final battle in the history of the Games. All along it felt too good to be true, and now I know that it was. But we won't kill each other and neither of us have injuries we could succumb to, so what's going to happen?<p>

Peeta and I both throw our weapons into the lake, then I turn to him and his arms are instantly around me. We hold each other tightly for a few minutes before he speaks. "Katniss, you have to win," he says.

I shake my head. "No."

"Yes," he says, "I'll get your bow." He tries to pull away from me, but I won't let go.

"No, Peeta."

I loosen my hold enough for him to pull back and look at me. "It has to be you. I love you," he says.

"And I -" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"They might send the mutts back, if we wait too long. You have to do it," he says, "you have to kill me."

Without even thinking about it, I reach up and slap him across the face. Not too hard, but hard enough to make my point. Peeta reflexively flinches and his eyes widen as he stares down at me.

"Don't even _say_ that!" I can't help feeling angry with him. Doesn't he get it? Doesn't he know? "I could _never_," I continue, then I pause and gently clear my throat. Just to make sure he understands, I say, "You kill me." I know he would never do it, but as I say the words, I realize that it sounds like the better option, by far. Because if Peeta died here, I'd never leave this arena. I would spend the rest of my life here, unable to think my way out. Unable to think of anything but this moment, and the memory of him.

"You know I can't," he says softly.

I start to feel tears spilling down my cheeks, and notice that Peeta's eyes are glistening too. I shake my head as I look up at him, to remind him that I can't either.

"What are we supposed to do, Katniss?" his voice is incredibly pained.

Find some food, go back to the cave, and then just live here in the arena? It's the only option I can bear to think of, but I'm sure he's right, and they would send the mutts or something after us eventually. Or maybe they would make the arena too hot or cold, until one of us died from exposure. Another option might be to get rid of all the animals until we starve to death on roots and berries…berries…

"We both know they have to have a victor," Peeta says.

He's right, they do. Otherwise the whole thing will blow up in the Gamemakers' faces, and they'll be punished by the Capitol. Possibly even executed, slowly and painfully, while the cameras broadcast it to every screen in the country.

If Peeta and I both were to die, or if they thought we were…

I look down at the pouch, which holds the nightlock, and free it from my belt. I know what we have to do. Peeta sees, and his hand clamps onto my wrist. "I won't let you," he says.

I stand on my toes, leaning into him. My lips are right at his ear when I whisper, "Trust me." I give him a soft kiss on the cheek and pull back.

He holds my gaze for a few moments, and then lets go of my wrist. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour some of the berries into his palm, then fill my own. "On the count of three?"

Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "On the count of three," he confirms.

We stand with our backs pressed together and our empty hands locked tight. Peeta says to hold them out, so everyone can see, and I comply, spreading out my fingers and looking down at the dark berries. Then I give his hand one last squeeze as a signal, and maybe a goodbye. We count together. "One." Am I wrong? "Two." Will they let us both die? "Three." There's nothing else to do, we have no choice. I lift my hand to my mouth, taking one last look at the world. The berries have just passed my lips when the trumpets begin to blare.

"Stop! Stop!" shouts the frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you - the tributes of District Twelve."

I spew the berries out and wipe my tongue with my shirt to make sure no juice remains. Peeta pulls me to the lake where we both flush our mouths with water and then collapse into each other's arms.

I reach out and touch his face, relieved beyond belief to see it again. "You didn't swallow any?"

He shakes his head. "You?"

"No," I say.

The hovercraft arrives and two ladders drop down, but there's no way I'm letting go of Peeta. With one arm around each other, we step onto one ladder together and hold on with our free hands. The minute the hovercraft door closes behind us and the paralyzing current goes away, we step off the ladder and I clutch at him frantically, with everything I have. I still feel terrified, and can't believe how many close calls we just had.

I don't want to have anything to do with these people in the hovercraft. I can't trust anyone except Peeta. Together, we make our way into a corner and I bury my face against his chest. His arms are tight around me and I can't imagine a time when I'll ever want him to let go.

I can't accept that it's over; I feel like we're still in the arena, and everyone else wants to hurt us. But on some level, I must know that the danger is over, because I can feel myself falling apart. As I think of everything that happened in the arena, I can finally have an appropriate reaction to it all. I couldn't dwell on it when we still there, because I had to keep thinking about surviving. But now that I'm away, the traumatic memories are crashing down on me.

Peeta starts stroking my hair and whispering, "It's over," again and again. Then he repeats, "We're safe," a few times. I realize my body is being wracked with sobs. I have to do something to calm down. I pull my head away from Peeta and stare into his eyes. He looks scared and panicked, too. I reach up and begin to pet his face. Over and over and over, I run my hand across his cheek, then his jaw, and down to his neck.

Where's my bow? I might need it to protect us again. I remember throwing it into the lake, and then I start to panic. I look away from Peeta and see a couple of people in the area, all keeping busy in one way or another as we fly through the air. One of them glances at us and quickly looks away. They all maintain a safe distance from us until we land back on the roof of the Training Center. Peeta and I stand up, still holding onto each other, and head toward the door of the hovercraft. That's when I'm jabbed from behind with a needle.

* * *

><p>When I wake, I'm in a room containing only the bed I'm lying in. I realize I'm strapped down, unable to sit up, and unable to look for Peeta.<p>

I lift my hand and see that it's clean, the nails are perfectly polished, and the burn scars from the fire in the arena are gone. I touch my cheek and my lips. Everything feels perfect and smooth. I want to sit up and am just becoming frustrated when the red haired Avox girl, who waited on me before the Games, comes into the room. She presses a button that raises me into a sitting position and sets some food in front of me. "Peeta's all right, isn't he?" I ask her, and she nods. _Of course he's all right,_ I tell myself, _why wouldn't he be?_ _We're safe now. _

After I eat the small amount of food, I try to work my way out of the restraining band, but I feel a cool liquid seeping into my veins and lose consciousness again.

This happens for an indeterminate amount of time. Waking, eating, sleeping. But eventually, I wake and I'm not hooked up to anything, nor is the band around me anymore. I put on the outfit at the foot of my bed, then leave the room. I step into a wide, seemingly deserted hall and hear Effie call my name. I turn and see her, standing at the end of the hall with Cinna and Haymitch. I run toward them, launching myself into Haymitch's arms first. "Nice job, sweetheart," he says. Effie keeps patting my hand and Cinna hugs me tightly but doesn't say anything.

"Where's Peeta?" I ask.

"They want to do your reunion live for the ceremony," Haymitch tells me.

All right. I suppose that makes sense and I can to stop worrying about him now. I'm shown into a room where my prep team can work on me, and then Cinna puts me in an unassuming yellow dress. I look in the mirror. Make up rounds out the sharp angles of my thin face, my hair is loose, held back by a simple headband, the dress falls to my knees and I'm not wearing heels. I look harmless and innocent, like a young girl. Fourteen years-old at most. I'm sure Cinna has a reason for portraying me this way, and of course I trust him. He tells me that he thinks Peeta will like the dress, but I'm sure there's more to it that that. He must have a reason for wanting the Capitol and Gamemakers and audience to see me this way. After I'm dressed, we meet up with Haymitch again and he gives me a hug.

"Listen up. You're in trouble," he whispers quickly, I assume my hair conceals his lips, "the Capitol is furious over how you showed them up in the arena. They're the joke of Panem and the one thing they can't stand is being laughed at."

I feel dread course through me, but manage to laugh as though Haymitch has said something funny. "So?" I say.

"Your only defense is that you were so madly in love with Peeta that you weren't responsible for your actions," he says, "so show it."

"No problem," I say, trying to sound easygoing. "Did you tell Peeta?"

"Don't have to," Haymitch says.

Right. I'm sure Peeta won't be able to help showing his love for me. I'm glad Haymitch told me this, so I know how I have to act. It's normally not in my nature to be very demonstrative with my affections, but I will if I have to. I'll do everything I can to keep Peeta and me safe from the wrath of the Capitol.

I feel terrified over what Haymitch has just told me, and start to tug my dress, wishing it was longer so that it could conceal my knocking knees. Can it be that the horrors I've just lived through are not the end? I have a terrible feeling of apprehension. The Capitol is cruel enough to those who they don't have a specific reason to be angry with. I shudder to think of what they might do if Peeta and I aren't able to placate them. I'm afraid that no matter how in love we appear to be, it will not be enough. But Haymitch made it sound like there's still have a chance, as long as we make it clear we weren't trying to defy them…

I haven't been able to think yet about what's going to happen between Peeta and me, when we get back to District Twelve. After what Haymitch just told me, all I can imagine doing when I go home is finding a big blanket, wrapping myself up in it and then hiding in my closet until someone comes to tell me that the Capitol is not angry with me anymore. Maybe then I could leave my room and let my parents hug me while I try to recover from the Games. And until that happens, if it ever does, I don't want to do anything else.

But then I think of how I felt about Peeta when we were in the cave, and I want him to be a part of my life, too, I just don't know in what capacity. I remember in the arena, before we threatened to take the berries, Peeta told me he loved me and I nearly said it back. But I was so afraid; my emotions were running high… I had to make him stop telling me to kill him.

I feel so frustrated and confused about everything, but I can't let it show. Because now I'm waiting under the stage and I'm about to be reunited with Peeta in front of a huge live audience and everyone at home all over Panem.

I hear the anthem booming, and then the plate lifts me up onto the stage. The lights are blinding and the roar of the crowd is deafening. Then there's Peeta, just a few yards away. He looks so clean and beautiful, and I can't believe how his smile makes me feel. I know I shouldn't feel consoled or happy, after what Haymitch told me, but I can't help it. It's as if all of my worries are gone. Certainly not vanished altogether, but overshadowed completely for the moment.

I take a few quick steps and fling myself into his arms. He catches me with ease and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. Then he's kissing me and I can't even think about the Capitol. All I can think of is Peeta and how I can't believe that the both of us are here. I remember how devastated I felt when we stood together on the stage at the reaping, and during those talks on the roof. I never imagined we would both survive the Games, but here we are. I can feel my doubts about him slipping away. He makes me so happy, even when I have no reason to be. Even when I should feel horrible and scared, he can make me feel better. Why should I deny myself of him? At the moment, I can't think of a single reason.

After about ten minutes, Caesar Flickerman taps on Peeta's shoulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. The audience goes berserk over this. Peeta, as usual, is playing the crowd exactly right. Finally, it's Haymitch who interrupts and gives us a good-natured shove toward the victor's chair.

This year, it's a small couch, where Peeta and I sit side-by-side. I kick off my sandals, tucking my feet to the side, and lean my head against Peeta's shoulder. His left arm goes around me and I hold his right hand in both of mine. I notice that his shirt matches my dress, but he's also wearing black pants and a pair of sturdy boots. I feel so vulnerable in this flimsy dress, but I guess that's the idea.

It's time for the show. We sit for three hours, watching a condensed version of the Games. Peeta and I are, of course, featured prominently in the clips. I'm relieved that they show several clips displaying our feelings for each other. We see when I warned him before dropping the nest, and then when he fought Cato. It's scary to watch that. I see myself hurriedly staggering into the woods, and Peeta turns away from me, to face Cato. Cato rushes toward him, spear poised, but Peeta quickly dodges the blow. Cato leans forward, having missed his target, then tries to right himself and regain his balance, and that's when Peeta stabs him.

There are plenty of clips of our fellow finalists, too. We see Rue making her way into the tall grass and finding Thresh, soon after the announcement of the rule change. Though they had no reason not to be allies, they shook hands, making the gesture. It's obvious that Rue was very relieved to have Thresh on her side. When it was time for the feast, Rue asked if she could help, but Thresh insisted that she stay behind, and gave her a pat on the head before he left.

The Careers killed the boy from Three shortly before the feast, while he was still sleeping. At the feast, Foxface hid in the Cornucopia and was the first to run out and get her backpack. Each one was marked with the district number of the tribute it was meant for. After she ran away to safety, Marvel went in to get his and Clove's backpacks. Thresh went after him, and while he was distracted, Clove came racing out. She threw one of her knives, getting Thresh right in the back of the head, like she tried to do to me on the first day. She and Marvel were left with all of the remaining packs.

Peeta and I were right about Foxface eating the nightlock. That evening, Rue tried to sneak back to the woods and away from the tall grass. Who could blame her for wanting to get out of there before nightfall? It must have been terrifying, being alone in the tall grass once she realized Thresh wasn't coming back. She got caught in some sort of net at the edge of the woods, and when Marvel found her he killed her with a spear.

Then we have to watch Clove and Marvel run from the mutts, and me killing him. Peeta and I follow Clove to the Cornucopia and then I turn back to shoot the mutts off of Peeta, without even thinking of the threat Clove still posed to me. I close my eyes when I see her standing up, behind me, and don't open them again until I hear her screaming as the mutts attack her.

Our threat with the berries, the announcement of our victory, and even a shot of us in the hovercraft afterward. Clutching at each other frantically while everyone else keeps their distance.

There's more cheering after the replay ends, and that's when President Snow comes out onto the stage, holding a victor's crown. He approaches Peeta and me, and I feel terrified, more terrified than at any time during the Games. His smile is sinister and intimidating, and his eyes remind me of a snake's. He breaks the victor's crown in two and puts one half on Peeta's head and the other on mine. The way he looks at me makes it clear that he blames me for the stunt with the berries. Peeta and I both would have eaten them, but it was my idea and obviously Snow hates me for it. I have to command myself not to flinch over his mere proximity to me.

Lots of bowing, waving, and cheering follows, then we are whisked away to the president's mansion for the victory banquet. Pictures are taken with Capitol officials and sponsors. Occasionally, I catch a glimpse of Haymitch, which is reassuring, or President Snow, which is terrifying. The sun is starting to come up when we make it back to the twelfth floor of the Training Center. I want to talk to Peeta, but Haymitch sends him off with Portia and then walks me to my room.


	8. The Threat

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>"Why can't I talk to him?" I ask.<p>

"Plenty of time to talk when we get home," Haymitch says, "go to bed, you're on air at two."

"No," I insist, "I have to talk to Peeta, and you. We need to talk about what's happened." I lower my voice when I add, "He has to be told."

Haymitch looks annoyed that I'm being so insistent, but I don't care. After everything we've been through together, I need to discuss this with Peeta. "Not here," Haymitch says, reminding me that we could easily be under surveillance.

"Fine, then," I say, stepping toward Haymitch, "we'll wait for him and then he and I can show you the roof. Have you been up there?"

"No."

"Well, it's nice and windy…and there's a great view."

"All right, sweetheart," he says, still apprehensive.

We stand in silence for fifteen minutes or so, until Peeta arrives in the hallway. I know we only just left the President's mansion, but it's a relief to see him again. Maybe the fear I felt for him during the Games is going to linger for a while.

Peeta reaches us and extends his arms toward me. I step into them without hesitation and we stay like this for a few seconds, hugging tightly, his face in my hair, mine against his chest.

"All right," Haymitch says, "I don't have all night."

We release each other and Peeta takes my hand. "What's going on?" he asks.

"We need to talk," I say, "and show Haymitch the roof."

"Okay," he says quickly, glancing at Haymitch and then back at me. Peeta leads the way and Haymitch follows us up the stairs and out the door to the roof. Together, the three of us walk over to the edge. Peeta and I stand right by the guard wall and Haymitch faces us. "What's is it?" Peeta asks.

"It's the Capitol," I say softly. I know the whole reason we came up here is that we likely won't be heard, but I'm still nervous. "They're angry with us because of what we did with the berries."

Peeta's eyes widen as he takes in this knowledge.

He looks over at Haymitch, who nods. "They think it screamed of rebellion."

"What do we do, then?"

"You have to convince them that you're so in love that you couldn't think straight," Haymitch says, "you have get rid of any doubt anyone might have about your motivation for threatening suicide, and prove that you weren't trying to be rebellious. That you only felt like you had no choice, because of how you feel about each other."

Peeta's gaze returns to mine and he steps toward me, hugging me again. "That's all true," he says, stroking my hair.

"I know that," Haymitch tells him, "but Snow doesn't. He's not happy about this at all."

"What are they going to do to us?" I ask Haymitch.

Haymitch hesitates for a few seconds, then finally says, "I don't know."

But he does know _something_, that's obvious. "Why don't I believe you?" I ask.

Haymitch steps closer to us and lowers his voice. He was already speaking softly, same as Peeta and me, but now he's barely audible. "You don't want them angry with you. There's nothing they won't do."

"You mean they'd kill us?" I ask.

"Not _you_," Haymitch says, "probably not you, anyway."

I know what he's implying and as the horror of it sinks in, I feel more afraid than I did at any time during the Games. "Our - our families?" I whisper.

I don't know how Haymitch could have heard me, but he nods. Maybe he read my lips.

I look up at Peeta, who looks as shocked and scared as I feel. "They can't," he says, but he sounds defeated and as if he doesn't really believe what he's said.

"They can do whatever they want. Believe me."

Haymitch's words make me realize just how little I know about him. I've always assumed that his drinking was a result of what he endured during the Games, and maybe the depressing task of being a mentor for the District Twelve tributes for so many years. But could there be more to it than those awful things? Does his past hide worse horrors? Haymitch must know what I'm thinking because he nods. "My mother and my little brother…and my girl," he confirms.

I'm speechless, I can only stare at Haymitch with wide eyes.

"There has to be something else we can do," Peeta suggests, his arms tightening around me.

I nod. "We'll do whatever we can."

"Well," Haymitch says, then stops to think. He looks back and forth between us. "You'll have to get married, of course. You'll be coming back here to mentor every year, and keeping an eye on you will be all too easy. So…the only thing that might help, at this point, is if you got engaged. Right now, before we leave for home."

We'll have to get married. The words are sobering. The Capitol has decided my future for me. I'm going to marry Peeta and I don't have any choice in the matter. I look up at him and the way his expression changes from one of fear to one of surprise and sadness makes it clear just how horrified I must look. He averts his eyes from mine and loosens his hold on me.

"Peeta," I say, raising my hand up to rest on his cheek, and turn his face toward me again. "I'm scared about everything. I can't believe they're going to force something like this on us…"

He understands what I'm trying to say, that my stunned reaction is nothing personal, and kisses my forehead. "You're sure about this?"

What does it matter, whether I'm sure or not? I tell him, "Yes."

"We'll get engaged, then," Peeta says.

I nod, then glance over at Haymitch, who looks a little surprised.

"Good," he says, "Peeta, you can propose during the interview tomorrow. I think it's a great idea, if you're both ready for that now."

Ready? Of course I'm not ready! I'm sixteen years-old, and the fact remains that I've only been speaking to Peeta for a matter of weeks. I'm not ready for this, but getting engaged is not the same as getting married. Just because we make this gesture, it doesn't mean a wedding will have to happen right away, I don't think. We'll probably wait until we're eighteen, at least.

And we have no choice, anyway. It doesn't matter what I want, or that I never intended to get married. Haymitch has made it plenty clear that we don't have any other option, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family.

"We'll need to get a ring," he says, then explains, "that's how they do it here, and I think the Capitol would appreciate it if you made this as authentic as possible, by their standards. So Peeta should present you with an engagement ring."

In District Twelve, hardly anyone has money to waste on jewelry, so this concept is a bit foreign to me. Back home, all people do is sign papers, maybe have a meal if it can be afforded, and then have family members sing the traditional wedding song as the new couple crosses the threshold of their home. And there's the toasting, of course.

I've never worn jewelry and this ring I'm going to be given is a reminder of how everything is going to change now. I'm going to move to the Victor's Village, have money to spare for the first time, and eventually get married to Peeta, even though I never planned to marry anyone. Of course, we'll still have to make sure we don't have children. I'm certain now, more than ever, that I could never bring a child into this world. No matter what happens, I won't do that.

I realize Peeta and I will have to have a talk about what's going to happen between us, when we get back home. But before we do, I think I need to work out exactly what I'm going to say to him. Plus, the very prospect of such a discussion makes me feel uncomfortable, so I don't want to think about it yet. It will be better to do it sooner, rather than later, but not now. Not while we're still here in the Capitol.

"I will, then," Peeta says, referring to Haymitch's statement about the ring.

"You and I can go get it right before the interview," Haymitch says. He smirks, then gives Peeta an obligatory pat on the back. "This is all you can do right now," he assures me, his gray eyes meeting my own.

I nod.

"You should get some sleep before the interview," Haymitch tell us, and he turns and walks to the door, then disappears from our view.

I look up at Peeta, and it must be obvious how scared I still feel. We both know we have very good reason be afraid, but he wants to comfort me, as always. He wants to help me. So he says, "It'll be all right. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

I try to smile at him, but can only manage to stop frowning. Peeta gently rests his hand on my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep," I say.

"You might be surprised. We should try, at least."

He's right, I am exhausted, and what else is there to do but rest? Peeta takes my hand and together we leave the roof and return to the hall outside our rooms. He starts to step toward his door, but my hand won't let go of his, so he turns back and smiles at me.

"I…" I start, but don't know how to continue.

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

I look up at him and for a moment wonder if he might misunderstand if I say yes. But he looks so caring, somehow, and I quickly remember that I can trust him implicitly. He's offering to come to my room with me for my sake, not his own.

Still, I feel kind of embarrassed about this and lower my eyes as I nod. I feel his lips on my forehead and then he pushes open the door to my room and leads me in. I sit down on my bed and finally let go of Peeta's hand. He walks over to the dresser and takes out a fresh nightgown, then sets it on the bed next to me. "You get changed," he says gently, "and I'll be right back. I need to get some things from my room."

"Okay," I say, and he gives me a reassuring smile before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

I wait a few seconds, then stand up to slide out of my sandals and pull off the yellow dress. I slip into the nightgown and then take the headband out of my hair. It put it, along with the dress, on a chair and then retrieve a hair tie and sit down on my bed again, braiding my hair back. I start to wonder what's taking Peeta so long. He knew I was afraid, and I would have thought that would cause him to hurry back. By the time I'm finished with my braid, I've started to worry. What could possibly be taking so long?

I stand up, walk over to the door and twist the knob. It will barely turn and when I try to pull the door toward me, it doesn't budge. Terror and dread course through me. I keep trying the door, frantically twisting and pulling at the knob, but nothing happens. Who did this, and why? Who would be cruel enough to deny me of Peeta, the one small comfort that I have?

As the fear sets in, I slowly step backward until I feel my legs hit the bed and can sit down. Is Peeta all right? I feel terrified for him, and I scoot back on the bed, bringing my legs up to my chest and hugging them tightly. I rest my forehead on my knees and remind myself that Haymitch said the Capitol isn't likely to harm Peeta or me directly. He must be okay, he has to be. He's just…locked in, same as me. I want to try pounding on my door and shouting to him but I'm afraid. Whoever locked us in scares me and I don't want to do anything that might make them mad if they're still out there. I let myself tip over sideways, still holding my legs, and spend a long time like this. Eventually, I manage to crawl beneath the covers, but I get up periodically to keep checking the door. It stays locked and I don't get any sleep.

* * *

><p>In the early afternoon, I hear Effie knocking on my door and telling me that it's going to be another big, big, big day. I take a shower and then my prep team and Cinna get me ready for the interview, which takes place right down the hall.<p>

There are a handful of cameras to record us, but I'm glad there's no live audience. Caesar Flickerman gives me a warm hug and congratulates me when I come in. We chat a bit, and he tells me not to be nervous, that nothing I say will be wrong. If only he knew that Snow might be arranging some sort of 'accident' right at this moment…

When I see Haymitch come through the door, followed by Peeta, I quickly excuse myself from Caesar and rush over to them. Haymitch and I greet each other and then he goes to stand behind the cameras.

Peeta hugs me tightly, running a hand up and down over my back.

I pull away to look at him and reach up to touch his face as I try to accept that he's really here, and he's all right. "You were locked in too?"

He nods his head.

"I was scared," I say.

"So was I," he admits, and he still looks worried, "I'm so sorry I left."

"You couldn't have known," I say. "Why would they do that to us?" I know it's a stupid question, I know I should feel lucky they didn't do anything worse.

Peeta shakes his head minutely. "We're getting on the train today," he reminds me, forcing a smile.

I nod, still trying to recover from the ordeal of being imprisoned in my room. Peeta hugs me again and then they're ready for us. I'm so nervous during the interview and I keep feeling like Peeta has the perfect answer for every question about us, while I sound awkward every time I speak. Inevitably, Caesar brings up the suicide threat.

"Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. What was going on in your mind when you pulled out those berries?"

I try to collect my thoughts, knowing that this is an incredibly crucial moment. "I just…couldn't bear the thought of being without him," I say.

"Peeta? Anything to add?" Caesar asks.

This is when he gets down on one knee, and pulls out a small black box.

"Katniss," Peeta says, looking up at me, "I love you and I can't imagine a life without you. If you'll let me, I'll do everything I can to make you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?"

I give him a loving smile and say, "Yes."

Peeta slides the ring onto my finger, then rejoins me on the couch. We hug and kiss and I'm vaguely aware that people in the room are actually sighing.

Caesar signs off and then it's over. Everyone is laughing and crying and hugging and when I reach Haymitch, I whisper, "Okay?"

"Perfect," he tells me.

I go back to my room and find that there's nothing to take home but the pin Madge gave me. Someone must have put it back there for me. They drive us through the streets in a car with blackened windows and then we get on the train. We say goodbye to Cinna and Portia, knowing we'll see them in a few months for the victory celebrations, then board the train and it takes off. Effie is accompanying us back and Haymitch is also returning, of course. We eat a big dinner and then watch a replay of the interview. As the Capitol gets farther away, I start to think of home, of my parents and Prim. I go to my compartment on the train and change out of my dress and into a plain shirt and pants. Then I wash the make-up off and braid my hair back. I'm slowly transforming back into myself. A girl who lives in the Seam and hunts in the woods.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **On the changes in this chapter: I thought if Katniss felt closer to Peeta, she would be more determined to talk to him about their precarious situation.


	9. Changes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>It seems like the farther I get from the Capitol, the less afraid I feel. And as my fear fades, I can't help feeling annoyed.<p>

I'm very tired, but know I wouldn't be able to sleep. I make my way out of my compartment on the train and into the hallway, then stop to look out the window at the mountainous landscape we're rushing past. That's the one thing I've gotten out of this whole mess, I suppose. A chance to see more of the world. I feel like I should stay here for the whole rest of the journey, because I've never traveled before. But then I remember that I still have the victory tour to look forward to. Wonderful. Peeta and I will get to see all of the districts whose tributes did not win the 74th Hunger Games. We'll even get to see the families of those we killed, from a distance.

I hear some uneven footfalls at the end of the corridor and know immediately who they belong to. He reaches my side and joins me in staring out the window.

"Doesn't that make you dizzy?" Haymitch asks, turning away from the windows and leaning his back against the wall that contains them.

"No," I say, turning to him and eyeing him up and down. I'm not sure how drunk he is at the moment, but I suppose even a small amount of alcohol would ruin the view. The train starts to slow down and I look around.

"Fuel stop," Haymitch says, staring at my face. He smirks. "Why the scowl?"

"Do you have to ask?" I snap.

"I'd think you'd be happy. The odds weren't in your favor, and still you and Peeta made it out of that arena."

"What are you _talking_ about?" I shoot back at him, "I'm terrified of what might happen -"

"Maybe we should take this outside," Haymitch says.

He's right, we could easily be heard here, and I want to continue this conversation. I don't have anyone else to talk to about how I'm feeling right now, and it seems like Haymitch is willing to listen.

When the train has come to a complete stop, we slide open the narrow door and he steps out, losing his balance when his feet make contact with the ground. I think he's going to fall, but he manages to right himself. I step after him and we begin to walk toward the back of the train.

"Now, tell me all your troubles, sweetheart."

I know he's mocking me, but I answer anyway.

"I barely know him," I say defensively, "and he's being forced on me."

Haymitch actually laughs at this. "You could do a lot worse. I really thought I was doing you a favor, telling you two to get engaged."

Ha ha. His sarcasm provokes me to react with scorn. "I never wanted any of this," I say, forcing myself to remain calm. "I never wanted to get married, because I refuse to bring children into this world. I've spent my whole life expecting things to go a certain way, and now, because the one slip in thousands that had my sister's name on it was drawn at the reaping, I don't get to choose my own future. I have to do something I swore I'd never do, and I'll have to stand by and watch as children die in the Games every year. I'll have to try to help them, and fail, just like you've been doing for the last two and a half decades."

Haymitch gives me a sidelong glance. "What would you have done if none of this had happened?"

What does that matter now? I shake my head, but when he remains silent, I decide I might as well try to answer. "I don't know," I say, "anything. Whatever I wanted…"

"It doesn't sound like you wanted anything," Haymitch remarks.

"I wanted freedom!" I say, raising my voice for the first time.

"None of us have that."

I continue, at a normal volume, "I wanted to go to school and spend time with my sister and my parents. Eventually, I wanted to find some sort of job and…"

Haymitch narrows his eyes at me, disbelievingly. "And, what, live with your parents for the rest of your life? Maybe you could have been a housecleaner or clothes washer, or maybe someone like Rooba would have been kind enough to give you a job, as a favor to your father. But you never would have made enough money to have your own house."

"I help take care of my sister," I say defensively.

"She'll grow up," Haymitch says, "and probably get married and then it would just be you and your parents -"

"What are you trying to do?"

"Just point out that you're feeling sorry for yourself when don't have a reason to."

"Oh, you're one to talk about self pity!"

The moment I've said the words, I regret them. I know that there is a vast difference between my hardships and Haymitch's. It's true that I haven't lost anyone who I love…yet. From his point of view, I suppose I am being unnecessarily sullen.

Haymitch doesn't react with the anger I know I deserve, instead he smirks and shakes his head. "You did good," he says, changing the subject. "You and Peeta seemed very in love, and I think the Capitol will leave your families alone after all that."

"I never wanted this," I say with a hollow voice, "we were putting on a show."

"You can keep telling yourself that," Haymitch says, "and let them make you miserable, if you want. Of course, you were unlucky that Prim's and Peeta's names were chosen at the reaping, but since then things have gone about smoothly as they could possibly go for you and him."

He pauses and stares at me, letting his words sink in. I grit my teeth and look away from him.

I hear Haymitch chuckle, then he mumbles something unintelligible and walks away. I stand alone for a few minutes, feeling annoyed over our talk, but unable to tell myself that he was wrong about any of it. I sit down at the edge of the tracks and stare off into the woods, lost in thought.

I remember the girl I was before the Games, who had a normal life. My parents' daughter, Prim's sister, Madge's friend. The girl who hunted with her father, and was quiet at school.

Then there's the girl who had to endure the events in the Capitol and the horrors of Hunger Games. The one who did terrible things in the arena, and had to cling to Peeta because there was nothing else to cling to. I would have felt so alone if I hadn't let myself get close to him. I was terrified, away from home for the first time in my life, and had nowhere else to turn.

Now, I feel different from either of those versions of myself, and am not sure what I'm left with. A traumatized, frustrated, and unwillingly _engaged_ girl, I suppose. Anything else?

I find myself thinking of Haymitch's response, when I told him my love for Peeta was for show. _"You can keep telling yourself that."_ Next, I can't help remembering Madge's words, when she first told me about Peeta's crush on me, on that walk home from school. _"Just go for it."_ Was that good advice, from my best friend? It's hard to believe that conversation with mere weeks ago, when it feels like it's been an eternity since I've seen Madge.

I can't deny that I have strong feelings for Peeta, feelings that don't seem like they're going away anytime soon. I also can't deny that he makes me happy, so maybe I should just let him. Allowing the Capitol to make me miserable will not keep my family safe.

I can hardly believe that Haymitch of all people, who I've never taken very seriously because of all those drunken displays, could be so insightful. I start to wonder about how he won the Hunger Games, twenty-four years ago. I've heard about that year; it was the second Quarter Quell, and there were twice as many tributes reaped. Somehow, Haymitch was the victor, so there must be more to him than meets the eye. He must have been smart, to remain alive as the other forty-seven people died off. Maybe he was right about me. Maybe he was right about all of it.

Just when I'm starting to consider going to find Peeta, I hear footsteps to my right, then look up and see him. His eyes meet mine and he smiles. "Hello again," he says, "Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me."

I almost feel like laughing. Am I that transparent? "I do," I say, with a nod. Peeta sits beside me, and I reach out and take his hand. As I stare into his eyes, I begin to feel foolish for what I said to Haymitch just now, about being angry that Peeta is being forced on me. Because it's happening again. Being with Peeta is making me happy. I don't know what it is, but there's something about him that enables him to overshadow my worries. It's as if he's a reminder that, no matter how bleak things may seem, life can go on. He makes me feel like it can be good again. After what I've been through, I think I need someone like him.

Still, what I have to say is going to be difficult. I take a deep breath to gather courage, and remind myself that it's only Peeta who I'm talking to. Peeta, who loves me more than anyone else in the world and who I know I can trust.

"Now that we're engaged," I say flatly, "I feel like I should be honest with you about some things."

He presses my hand between both of his and nods, as he stares into my eyes.

"I never thought I would get married," I say, "because I'm not going to have children. I can't even bear the thought of their names being entered in the reaping. Especially now."

Peeta's expression is unreadable, but he nods again.

"I just thought you should know that. That we can never have children. I won't do it."

There's silence for a few seconds before he speaks. "I would never try to pressure you for something you don't want," he says, looking down at our hands, "whatever kind of relationship you want to have with me, I'll be happy with it. But I hope you know that we can be together, but still not have children."

I do know that it's possible. And to hear him say that it will be all right with him, if it's just the two of us, is all I needed. Still, talking about this is starting to make me blush. Even Peeta looks uncomfortable; he doesn't seem to want to look me in the eye anymore. I don't know if this is because of what we're discussing, or if he's afraid I'll tell him I don't want to be with him at all…in that way.

"All right," I say tentatively, "that sounds good."

His eyes raise to mine and he smiles unabashedly. I realize that he was only shy because he thought I might not want him, and not because of this discussion in general. I feel my face get even warmer. "I mean, I need to take things slowly, very slowly," I say. _Especially after what we've just been through._

"Of course -" he starts.

"But I want to be with you."

Peeta pulls me close and presses his lips to the place where my neck and shoulder meet. Then he leans away and runs his hand over my hair, smiling. He looks at me expectantly, waiting to see what I'll do. I wonder if he thinks that when I said I wanted to take things slowly, that meant I didn't want to kiss him anymore, for a while.

But that's not what I meant. I reach up and cup his face with one hand, and rest the other on his shoulder. I lean forward, and right before my lips meet his, I realize that this is the first time I've initiated a kiss between us. In the cave, and even during our time the Capitol, it was always Peeta who leaned in first.

When we return to the train, we go to the furnished area where we watched our interview, and sit on the couch. Peeta shows me a drawing he was working on before Haymitch told him to find me. It's a sketch of me, standing in the woods and holding my bow, with an arrow poised to fly. "This is really good," I say honestly.

Peeta shrugs. "It's hard to avoid making you look beautiful."

I guess I'll have to get used to him saying things like this. I give him a polite smile, in acknowledgement of the compliment. We spend the rest of the day together, talking about home mostly. That night, I put on some sleeping clothes and quickly realize that the thought of spending the night alone, with my memories of the arena, is unbearable. I then go to Peeta's compartment and knock. Almost immediately, he opens the door and smiles at me.

"I was hoping it'd be you," he says.

I smile back. "You mind if I stay?"

Instead of answering verbally, he reaches out, takes my hand and then gently pulls me into the room, shutting the door behind us. I walk over to the bed and sit on the end of it. "I keep thinking about the Games," I say.

Peeta nods, unsurprised, then sits beside me. "Me too."

I've wanted to discuss this since we got out of the arena, but didn't get the chance in the Capitol, and didn't want to ruin the nice time we had together today. "I wanted to ask you…it might be my imagination, but the mutts…"

Peeta's eyes widen. "Did you think-"

"Did you?" I ask.

"Everything happened so fast, but when I picture it in my mind…"

"It must be true, then," I say, and swallow hard. "I recognized Glimmer first, because of her hair and those bright eyes."

"I thought I recognized Rue," Peeta says, "and they had some sort of tags on them, with numbers."

"District numbers." Yes, I definitely have to stay with him tonight. I know I'm going to have nightmares about those things, now that the scope of their horror has been confirmed.

Peeta had already changed out of his clothes and together we pull the covers down and climb into his bed. My head finds it way onto his chest and his arms wrap around me. He presses his lips to my forehead, and I feel him smile before he withdraws them. "This is nice," he says.

It _is_ nice. Much nicer than that sleeping bag in the cave. I feel so comfy and have every hope that being here with Peeta will help me to sleep soundly.

"Too bad we won't be here longer," he says.

"We're going to be neighbors," I remind him. "Maybe I can sneak out at night."

He chuckles. "I don't know about that. Your parents might not understand, if they found out, and I want them to like me."

I don't really know what to say to this. "Well, I'm sure they will like you." I have to struggle not to laugh as I add, "I'm sure you'll be the son they've always wanted." Because it just sounds so ridiculous to talk about something like this, after what we've just been though. But I suppose life goes on; it has to.

"Good," Peeta says.

He sounds so sincere and, even though my lips are pressed together tightly and I'm not making any sound, I know he must be able to feel me laughing. But I can't help it. It's been so long since I've slept that I might be a little out of it right now.

"Goodnight, Katniss," Peeta says, and I wonder if he's trying not laugh, too.

I manage to calm down enough to say, "Goodnight."

When we arrive in District Twelve, Peeta and I are both looking out the window, watching our grimy little station rise up around us. I can see that the platform's thick with cameras, and know that everyone will be eagerly watching our homecoming.

I feel Peeta's hand slide against mine and grasp it. When I look over at him I'm met with a reassuring smile. I felt weary at first, with the sight of the cameras and the thought of putting on a show again, but now I'm reminded of how easy it is to pretend to be in love with Peeta. I hardly have to pretend at all.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thanks for reading!


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